


Red Light Blues

by kaientai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Brothels, Courtesans, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Mystery, Sengoku Era, Slow Burn, Smut, and a fuck ton of Gintama references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai
Summary: Yoshiwara was known as a safe haven where men and women basked in each other's warmth under the watchful eye of the moon. But as all dreams tend to, promises whispered in the dark would be purged once the sun made its rounds. You were no different from any other courtesan that longed to be free—to see the world beyond the eternal night.Unbeknownst to you,hewas willing to risk it all to make your dream come true.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 101
Kudos: 490





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Me, fully aware that the blues did not exist in Sengoku Japan: jazz for your soul, ladies?
> 
> Newayz, with all these new characters popping up, we all need to remember the OGs. Remember your roots! ~~I say as I thirst for the Hirugami brothers~~

_I loathe the moon._

_With nightfall, it brings you to me, but it also takes you away when the sun breaks through the horizon._

_I wish for it to never leave—for the moonlight to favor all the lovers chained by secrecy and deceit._

_If the moon shines forever in the land of eternal night, then surely you, too, would remain by my side._

* * *

“There she is!”

“Move over, move over! I can't see her!”

“Ah, she's as gorgeous as always. If only I could scrape enough money to meet her up close...”

“As if Yoshiwara's top oiran would pay mind to commoners like you.”

“Hah?! Are you try'na pick a fight with me?”

The awed gasps and murmurs all around you faded in your ears like white noise. It was engraved into your consciousness to always look straight, never sparing any lesser man so much as a single glance. Each subtle movement you made amounted to thousands in yen, and someone who could not afford to pay the fees had no right to be gazed at by your eyes for even half a moment.

Well, at least that was what you were told.

“Taiyou-sama,” whispered your fellow oiran, Yachi, who was holding up an umbrella over your head despite it being deep into the night. “Which sake would you like for later? The sweet kind or the ones brewed in—”

“Yachi,” Kiyoko, one of your older juniors, reprimanded from where she tailed you from behind. “Do not speak so casually to Taiyou-sama. Saeko-san will be furious if she finds out, you know.”

You breathed out a long sigh through your nose, hiding your bubbling laughter behind the sleeves of your silken kimono. “Kiyoko, no need to be so uptight. It's just me, after all.”

“But—”

“We have returned!” shouted one of the newly appointed guards, Yamaguchi. The young samurai stood in front of the tall gates of Yoshiwara's most sought-after brothel, assuming a stance befitting of a boy filled with promise. But you didn't miss the way his fingers trembled when he grasped the hilt of the katana strapped to his side. Maybe, after a year or-so of training under Ukai, he would be rid of that agitation of his.

The wooden gates groaned on their hinges once they were pushed open by none other than Asahi and Nishinoya. Their faces were contorted with effort as they revealed the entryway to the brothel that was Karasuno. You could still feel the gazes of the visitors of Yoshiwara lingering on your form, and for a moment, you thought about how repulsed the you of the past would have been with their lascivious stares. 

But now, the you that was given the title, “The Sun of Yoshiwara” could only lift her head high as those on the ground craned their necks upward for a glimpse at her splendor.

“Good evening, Taiyou-sama,” the two samurai stationed at the entrance greeted, heads bowed in respect. It was strange seeing Nishinoya, who struck you as a free spirit that obeyed no laws, ducking his head in formal greeting. As the rest of the samurai that escorted your little group of oirans closed the gates, you tutted at them to raise their heads. 

“Your patron for the night awaits upstairs,” Asahi informed you, offering his hand as you stepped onto the elevated foyer. “He seems rather...attached to you, Taiyou-sama. He couldn't be any more impatient while Ukai-san entertained him until you returned.“ 

Nishinoya scoffed. “He _reeks_ of nobleman privilege. How did someone like him end up getting crowned a warlord?”

“N-Noya-san, I don't think you should speak ill of our p-patrons,” Yamaguchi uttered hesitantly. 

“Yamaguchi's right,” drawled Hinata, another one of the new recruits. “When he went here the other day, Taiyou-sama was already entertaining another patron. He threatened Ukai-san that he'll run the place into bankruptcy if he didn't get a night with her within the week!”

Kageyama, the most talented of the fledgling samurais, spitefully muttered, “Hinata, you dumbass. You don't speak of those matters in front of Taiyou-sama.”

“Eep! S-Sorry!”

“About time you louts arrived!”

Despite the razor sharp edge of her voice, you found your shoulders easing with relief when your eyes caught sight of Saeko. She pressed her cherry-red lips to a kiseru pipe before puffing out a breath of smoke—grinning mischievously as she shut the screen door from where she emerged.

“Saeko,” you greeted her warmly. “I take it that you'd just finished humoring your patron?”

With nothing but her lips balancing the pipe in her mouth, Saeko patted down her hair and straightened out her disheveled kimono. A faint redness dusted the oiran's cheeks, and it struck you with a vague sense of curiosity. Saeko was far from the typical courtesan that appealed to her patrons' egos by playing a helpless woman. You'd daresay she could be more ferocious than most of the samurai hired by Ukai, even. So seeing her lose composure _definitely_ warranted your surprise.

“Doesn't matter,” she spoke dismissively, tapping her pipe on a nearby ashtray stuck to the walls. “Kiyoko, you're being requested specifically by a man from the Johzenji Plains for tomorrow night. Terushima Yuuji-san. Do you know who he might be?”

She shook her head, the tassels of the accessories intricately placed in her waxed hair swishing with the movement. “I believe I haven't met him.”

“Ah, I guess it can't be helped,” Saeko considered before turning to Yachi. “You replenished our sake supply this morning, right? Some of the regulars really like the homemade brew, Yachi. Good work!”

“Y-Yes! I made just enough to last a week as told,” the younger woman stammered, obviously flattered by Saeko's praise. 

“Now, for the samurai...”

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged on your lips the following moment as Saeko gave the men their orders for tonight. Though you were this brothel's in-demand courtesan, you were centuries away from becoming a leader that kept everything and everyone in order. In hindsight, Ukai was supposed to manage all the staff—oiran and samurai alike—as the owner. But Saeko's overtly strong personality _did_ produce better results with the completion of daily tasks. Perhaps, it had something to do with her being the sister of—

“Nee-san! Some important people have arrived!”

Saeko's mouth pulled into a grimace at the sound of her brother, Tanaka's voice. (Despite them sharing the same surname, somehow Tanaka had always just been... _Tanaka_ , and not Ryuunosuke.) With one eyebrow raised, she laid the pipe across the ashtray before padding barefoot across the tatami to meet him by the entrance.

“Ryuu, what did I tell you about yelling in the—oh.”

The stunted oh that resounded from Karasuno's pseudo-owner prompted you to crane your neck to glance at what all the fuss was about. Outside, Tanaka along with yet another recruit, Tsukishima, looked as pale as ghosts, while Saeko forcibly snapped herself out of her prior shock. When you followed her line of sight, however, you realized what had startled the three of them so badly.

“Coming through!”

“Excuse us.”

Accommodating patrons was the most basic function of any brothel you could find in Yoshiwara. You grew up in this very building, so you were used to seeing men from all sorts of places dropping by for a night of sensual delights and carnal pleasure without having to know the purpose of their visit. But seeing two powerful and well-known warlords visiting the same place on the _same_ night? That was something unheard of. 

“Oho? Kuroo really wasn't kidding when he said this place was the real deal,” spoke the Owl Commander, Bokuto Koutarou—his golden eyes darting around the space where you stood with everyone else.

“Hm. I did not expect it to be this...sanitary,” the Eagle Commander, Ushijima Wakatoshi observed, looking rather indifferent to his surroundings. “Lord Bokuto, I'm afraid I do not understand why you wished to pay this place a visit.“

Bokuto chortled out loud, tipping his head back with glee. “Aw, Wakatoshi, you're so uptight. I told you, I...”

“Oi, Ryuu, what the hell are they doing here?” Nishinoya whispered hoarsely to Tanaka once they retreated back inside. “The entirety of Karasuno has already been booked by that prick of a warlord upstairs for the night, hasn't it? I don't think he'll appreciate the divide in attention.”

“I am as clueless as you are, Noya-san,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Lord Bokuto recognized the ravens carved onto our sword hilts and demanded that we take them here.”

“Ah, may we speak to the owner of this fine establishment?” Bokuto suddenly quipped aloud, childlike curiosity brimming in his gaze. “We'd like to ask about the famous Taiyou-sama—”

“Yes? What business do you have with me?”

Your fellow oirans and the samurai alike all whipped their heads back at you, mouths agape with surprise. While you understood that they might've been disgruntled by the entrance of such...revered figures in the higher echelon of the Bakufu, you still had a patron waiting in the upper floors. From what Asahi and the rest have told you, he wasn't someone you'd like to keep waiting. 

The commander stared at you with an amazement devoid of impure intentions—a gaze you were unused to receiving. “I see, I see. So _you're_ the one that's been bringing men to their knees with just a single night of companionship. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! ...Oi, Wakatoshi, say something, too.”

“I would rather not.”

“Come on!”

Their little banter was disrupted by the sound of a screen door sliding open. Puzzled, you glanced behind you, only to come face-to-face with a man with wild, ebony hair. He was still in the middle of pushing a lean arm into the sleeve of his haori when he emerged from the room Saeko had come from earlier, stifling a yawn as he walked outside. But the drowsiness in his slanted eyes disappeared in the snap of a finger once his gaze landed on the pair of peculiar visitors.

“Mind telling me why you idiots followed me here?” The dark-haired patron, which you now recognized as the commander of the Shinsengumi, Kuroo Tetsurou, clicked his tongue with annoyance. “Seriously, what could you want from a lowly policeman like me that you just _had_ to—”

“I see we've incurred quite the audience tonight, haven't we, Sawamura?”

The familiar voice of a certain Ukai Keishin resounded from the staircase that led to the upper floors, revealing the owner of Karasuno along with the head of the samurai corps, Sawamura. Following closely was Takeda—a diplomat of sorts that handled all necessary communication between potential patrons and the brothel itself. Apart from Ukai, the newly joined party was just as taken aback by the presence of not one, not two, but three high ranking officials inside the brothel.

“Saeko, you're done doing business with Lord Kuroo, aren't you?” Ukai asked, but his eyes were trained on the two warlords standing by the door. When Saeko hummed in affirmation, he continued with, “Draw a bath for Taiyou-sama. I will not have her presented to our patron with the dust outside still lingering on her skin.”

“Understood,” she responded in a manner so unlike her usual, domineering self. Saeko ushered you and the rest of the oirans present upstairs, leaving Ukai and the samurai to deal with the strange combination of visitors without another word.

* * *

“There,” Kiyoko breathed once she'd finished applying the final touches to your makeup. In the mirror, you observed that your skin was powdered white evenly and the redness of your lips brought out your eyes even more. While you were most certainly capable of doing your own makeup, there was another dimension to Kiyoko's extra touches to the colors she picked for your eyelids that you just couldn't achieve. 

You flashed her a kind smile before marveling at the way Yachi styled your hair with a cherry blossom hairpin as well. “Life wouldn't be the same without the two of you.

“T-Taiyou-sama, you're too kind,” Yachi squeaked as she gently patted down a lock of stray hair in place. 

You pouted at her. “You know, I miss the time when you two called me by my real name quite a lot.”

Kiyoko heaved a long sigh, flicking a bit of powder that had gotten on your kimono. “Taiyou-sama, don't be preposterous. You were given that name for good reason.”

“I still wish I hadn't been,” you murmured under your breath as your two friends made their exit—leaving you alone in the room where you were to accompany tonight's patron. 

You stood by the barred window that granted but a minimal glimpse of the colorful lights outside, heaving a wistful breath as you rested your head against the wooden grills. 

In the silence, you trained your gaze on the small table right next to the wide futon Kiyoko had spread out. A metal tray with a ceramic flask and matching cups sat on the surface, each piece painted with black cranes on the side. There was something...sad about the sight of that sake set that you couldn't quite wrap your head around. You've been doing this for _years_ —accommodating men you didn't even know, letting them find temporary solace in your body only for them to leave come morning. As Yoshiwara's highest paid courtesan, it should be easy for you to ease yourself back into routine. 

This was your destiny, after all.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of Saeko's voice. She was engaged in idle conversation with a man that had a playful curl in his tone. One brow quirking upward, you wondered how someone who talked like that could be as bad as Nishinoya had described him. 

“I do hope you enjoy what the night has in store for you,” imparted Saeko as she slid the screen door open, revealing one of the most beautiful men you'd ever laid your eyes on.

The loose, aquamarine fabric of his hakama contrasted perfectly with his stark white haori, but his exquisite choice in clothing was just the beginning. The mop of tousled, almond hair on his head was the same color as his mesmerizing, brown irises. A frivolous smirk played on his pink lips, and that alone was clue enough that this man could be quite interesting. 

“Taiyou-sama,” he spoke your name—no, your _alias_ —with a flirtatious drawl in each syllable while Saeko quietly shut the door behind him. “My name is Oikawa Tooru, and I'm honored to be in your company.”

As he drew closer, you felt your heart stuttering in your chest, leaving you out of breath before he could even touch you. When was the last time you felt this...flustered around a man?

You expected him to manhandle you with the rough treatment you usually received from overeager patrons, but the weight of his hand when he rested it on your hip was oddly light, like he was waiting for you to come to him instead. Brows furrowed, you careened into the warmth of his body to appease him, watching the way his mouth curved into a lopsided smile. While not all of your previous patrons were complete savages, the gentleness in his actions was foreign to you—and you couldn't tell if that was good or bad. 

A warlord's hands were meant to be rough and callous, yet Oikawa cradled your face like you were hewn from spun glass. You could only part your lips in muted surprise at the way the moonlight glinted in his deep, brown eyes. As he leaned down to ghost his breath across your powdered face, he let out a soft chuckle that made spots of gooseflesh dance across your skin. 

“I'll be in your care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a big fat Gintama stan that's just recently rewatched the Courtesan of a Nation arc and I'm in SHAMBLES. And since writing reader-inserts for Gintama never really sit well with me, I'm spinning an AU off on Haikyuu instead!~ This is one of those reverse harem fics w/ multiple endings but I'm still contemplating about which characters to use or if I'll even use any more. One thing's for sure though—the OT5 are _definitely_ going to be involved.
> 
> You can yell at me to stop publishing new shit and update my ongoing fics on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com)!


	2. The Sun Rises at Night

“Is the tea to your liking, my lords?”

Ukai's office had never seen such a grand audience since the time Lord Nekomata, who ran another whorehouse on the other side of Yoshiwara, paid him a visit. Those keen-eyed samurai he had brought along didn't make Ukai the least bit comfortable, but of course he had to keep up appearances. However, he'd only dreamed of the day he had to entertain two feudal lords who answered directly to the shogun and the commander of the Shinsengumi all in the same night. 

Bokuto, as chipper as the rumors said he usually was, nodded gingerly as he drained his cup—startling poor Yachi when he requested it to be refilled when she'd just poured a generous amount. Ukai supposed that he was not one to strictly abide by tea ceremonies but it wasn't as if this was a formal gathering where he was expected to act as such. Although he knew better than to be fooled by the Commander's exuberant façade. 

Ukai had met Ushijima long before he even travelled to Edo altogether. They hailed from the same, faraway province in the East that had gone by so many names that he no longer kept tabs on what to call his homeland. One thing he _did_ know, however, was that the Ushijimas—who were the chiefs of their little village—had extended their sphere of influence to the capital as well. The man sitting across from him was proof of that, barely touching his tea as he affixed Ukai with a passive stare.

Lastly was Kuroo, who was grinning cheekily up at his brothel's newest trainee with the practiced charisma of a womanizer. Yachi blushed a deep shade of red, sputtering with her words when Kuroo had asked her a question that was out of Ukai's earshot. (He'd have to remember to work on her jumpiness before Ukai could introduce her to his clients.) But the thing that was most off-putting about the policeman was the fact that he was one of Nekomata's feline children. Samurai blessed with the agility and grace of a cat's made for good allies but troublesome enemies, after all.

“If it's being served by a pretty lady like that, it's bound to be good,” Kuroo chuckled as he winked at Yachi, who slid the screen door shut with a squeak. 

“Oi, Kuro, since when were you that particular about women?” Bokuto pestered him from where he sat on Ushijima's other side. “Did you get your heart broken by that Oriental girl running the sweets shop in town or—”

“Can you please refrain from discussing unnecessary matters?” sighed Ushijima, casting both lords a pensive stare of his own. “Lord Ukai went out of his way to entertain us, after all.”

Ukai nearly lost his grip on the kiseru pipe in his hand at Ushijima's sudden interruption. From what little he knew about the eldest son of the Ushijima clan, Ukai was at least aware he didn't speak lest spoken to. He brought the pipe up to his lips, fingers drumming slightly against the long stem as he exhaled a breath of tobacco smoke in the air. So they weren't here out of pure coincidence after all. 

“Is there something you wish to discuss with me, my lords?” he treaded carefully. With the nature of the business he was running, he'd learned to be vigilant of all those that tried to make negotiations with him. Takeda had been a great help with maintaining public relations, but Ukai had an inkling that this was something he, as the owner, must oversee firsthand. 

Kuroo perked up from his seat, dipping his head to drink the rest of his tea before slamming the cup on the table. “Ah, right. I actually went to ask about certain...things taking place here in Yoshiwara. But I'm afraid one of your oirans _seduced_ me into—”

“Lord Kuroo,” Ukai interceded warily. “I would be delighted if you refrained from going off track.”

The policeman sighed, grumbling something about uptight businessmen before clearing his throat—the mirth on his face having been replaced with sobriety.

“I'm sure you've heard about the string of murders that's been taking place all around Yoshiwara, right?” he sighed, carding slender fingers in his ebony hair. “All of the victims are well-known courtesans. Lords Bokuto and Ushijima were tasked to collaborate with the Shinsengumi to apprehend the killer, and we would like to request your utmost cooperation in the matter.”

As one of the higher powers that controlled this town, he was dutifully aware of what was happening to various women within the district. Though he didn't think that it warranted much of his attention. Crime was an accomplice to the darkness that shrouded Yoshiwara come nightfall, and it was for that reason why most brothels had samurai stationed like guard dogs around the premises. But if the Bakufu was taking the matter into their own hands, then this was definitely more than what Ukai had painted it out to be. 

“I see,” Ukai remarked, choosing his words carefully. “But why visit this brothel in particular to begin your investigation? I'm certain that Nekoma in the West part of town is more reputable than—”

“You do not know yet?” Bokuto spoke over him, his bright eyes going cold with shock. 

The owner frowned. “Pardon?”

A grim look shadowed Kuroo's face. “The first lead we have on the murderer's identity is of an eyewitness statement saying they saw a cloaked figure donning a kitsune mask making his escape. The second was—”

“At the scene of the most recent crime itself!” the Owl Commander squawked from his seat, forcing his palms atop the wooden table, causing some tea to spill. “A bloody message written on the side of the building where the woman worked at!”

Dread churned in the pit of Ukai's stomach, coiling so tightly in his gut that he almost coughed in the midst of a drag in his pipe. He didn't like the implications of their visit that were beginning to dawn on him. But the conversation took another unexpected turn when Ushijima finally picked up his cup of tea, taking but a minimal sip before setting it down gently on the table. He gazed at Ukai with those deep, viridian eyes of his like he was staring right into his soul.

“ _I will swallow up the sun_ ,” the Eagle Commander reiterated languidly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Those were the words written by the killer when he'd disposed of an oiran from the Nohebi House.”

Kuroo, just as startled at Ushijima's initiative to explain, shifted his seat as he chuckled to himself. “And we all know that the sun in Yoshiwara rises at night, do we not?”

Their words echoed in Ukai's mind like the incessant rings of a shrine bell back home, rendering him at a loss for anything of substance to say in return. All he could manage was to take yet another puff from the kiseru that he was certain would be the cause of his demise a few decades later. But the sound of rushed footsteps resounding from outside the room saved him the trouble of having to face the facts before him. 

“L-Lord Ukai,” Sawamura's breathless voice staggered as he slammed the screen open. “Yachi discovered this in Lord Oikawa's belongings.”

There, the head of Karasuno's samurai corps thrusted out a hand that held an unsuspecting kitsune mask. 

“Oho?” Bokuto perked up, and Ukai wasn't sure what to make of the bloodthirsty gleam in his eye. “Today is our lucky day, isn't it?”

“It most certainly is,” Kuroo drawled out in agreement, rising to his feet as Ukai heard him pick up his katana from the floor. “Shall we apprehend the murderer before it consumes its meal, Lord Ushijima?”

Ushijima got onto his feet as well, a look of calm determination settling on his face. “Make haste.”

Though they had a glaring disparity between their personalities, it was as if the three lords had come to a sound agreement in unison. They bolted out of the room with a speed so inhuman that Ukai barely had enough time to dump his pipe on the ashtray before following suit. Sawamura, thankfully, maintained a pace that he could keep up with.

“Forgive me for having eavesdropped in your conversation,” pleaded Sawamura as they ascended the building. “But I could not sit still knowing Taiyou-sama's life is in danger.”

Ukai's mouth stretched into a grimace. Though Oikawa was not the most pleasant client he had the pleasure to attend to, there was something about the conclusion the three lords had jumped into that rubbed him the wrong way. The young lord was far too naïve to be a cold, calculated killer. And wasn't it careless of him to carry such evidence in his belongings if he was leaving them with someone else?

Ah, but Ukai supposed the truth will reveal itself in a short while.

* * *

“Is the Sun of Yoshiwara usually this meek around her clients?”

You could barely bite down the moan that spilled from your mouth when Oikawa spoke. At the same time he had posited the question, he ground his hips at an angle that just barely missed the sweet spot that never failed to make you sing. Your mind was hazy, lips parted in a silent plea for him to mold his lips on top of yours once more. The warlord was all too eager to comply, sparing you a featherlight kiss as he continued making miracles between your thighs. 

“My lord, you're teasing me,” you breathed, gasping when you felt his teeth nip at the skin of your neck. 

“It cannot be helped,” he chuckled lazily when he pulled away, those brown eyes shining in the low light of the lanterns overhead. “You are far too adorable. I could just _gobble_ you up, Taiyou-sama.”

In your momentary distraction, he'd reached a hand down south, where deft fingers toyed with the bundle of nerves that had you keening his name with reckless abandon. You'd underestimated him because he was young—because he looked like some stuck-up rich boy that would climax when he wasn't even halfway inside a woman. But, oh, were you in for a couple of surprises.

The man above you knew exactly how to wrap you around his finger. 

“You like that, do you?” Oikawa cooed, a lilt of fondness lacing his tone. “I take it that a majority of your patrons are old crones that simply want a hole to fuck and nothing else.” When his mouth twitched into a wicked smile, the pace of his thrusts became harsher, _punishing_. “There's nothing I despise more than men who can't even please a lovely woman like you.”

“L-Lord Oikawa!” you sobbed as you forced your eyes closed, focusing on nothing else but the sensation of his generous length pounding you into the wrinkled futon. 

He was overriding your senses with pleasure you hadn't even known existed in this realm. All the teachings that have been ingrained into your body have fled your mind, making you unable to live up to the title of Yoshiwara's highest paid courtesan. _You_ were supposed to be the one coaxing him to the pinnacle of release, yet it was as if the roles have been reversed. Oikawa carefully manipulated your body in ways it had not been before, rendering you as helpless as any common whore you could find on the streets. There was a light behind your eyelids that you desperately wanted to chase after—a light that you knew only Oikawa could help you reach. And you would be damned to hell if you refused the wanton desire that coursed through your veins. 

The lord's skin was cold and sweat-stricken, the uneven grunts he let slip in-between breaths a telltale sign that he was just as close to the edge as you were. He murmured sweet nothings in your ear—words you knew better than to take at face value. With the variety of men you'd lied with, there was but one common denominator for all of them: their incurable penchant for instilling women with false hopes and promises forgotten in the morning. 

But despite the time he bid to slowly, slowly build you up, neither of you got to take a bite out of the sweet taste of a timely climax. 

“Lord Oikawa Tooru of the Blue Castle.”

Having been caught up in your own lust-clouded reverie, you didn't even notice when the door to the room had been slid open. Light spilled from the hall, making you squint at the sudden brightness. You felt Oikawa turn rigid from above you, glaring poisonously at the interruption. 

Right outside the door stood the three men that were welcomed into Karasuno only a few hours ago. Each lord had their blades drawn, making you stiffen with alertness. Only guardian samurai were allowed to draw their weapons in Yoshiwara. The slant-eyed policeman, Kuroo, was the first to step forward—a sleazy grin playing on his lips. 

“My deepest apologies for walking in on such an _intimate_ moment but...” He pointed his blade at your patron, smirking. “My lord, you are under arrest for the murder of several Yoshiwara courtesans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go with a murder mystery in the Sengoku era. I wonder if Oikawa really did it [ponder]
> 
> Anyway, you can chat with me on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) or support me on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai)!


	3. Nod and Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning tags: graphic depictions of child abuse in the latter part of the chapter. I strongly suggest for you to skip out on reading this if you find it disturbing, since it's quite essential to the plot.

Murdering...who?

The sensation of Oikawa's length pulling out of your body in front of three of the most important men in Japan should be flustering, you thought. But you've been trained to always maintain your composure even under duress, so you didn't startle or move in a way that would embarrass both the brothel and your client. 

Your gaze hardened as you felt your pulse spike in your chest. It wasn't everyday that the Shinsengumi commander would walk in on your sessions to single out your client for committing a grave crime. But what's more was that he accused Oikawa of being the mastermind behind an infamous string of murders—a topic spoken in hushed whispers imparted to you by courtesans from other houses.

“Now, wait just a moment,” you seethed with a frown, not even making the effort to cover up. “You have no authority to barge in as you please. There are laws in Yoshiwara that—”

“Ah, forgive my insolence but...” Kuroo's voice trailed off as he shifted his blade, the tip now pointing directly at you. 

“Taiyou-sama, I _am_ the law.”

The silence that encompassed the room rang in your ears like white noise. You've never had the tip of a katana pointed in-between your eyes before. For a brief second, you wondered if those that died by the sword felt the same dread fluttering in your ribcage in their final moments. However, before that morbid idea could pan any further, Oikawa let out a guttural scoff, hastily throwing a sheet over your bare form as he robed himself. 

“Unpleasant as ever, aren't you, Kuroo?” the warlord grunted, those hazel eyes of his narrowed into slits. “You never really learned how to treat women delicately.”

Kuroo chuckled darkly, and the relief that sagged on your shoulders when he lowered his blade was painstakingly obvious. The commander stared at Oikawa with an irritation meant for someone he'd known for a long time as his mouth quirked into a mirthless frown—amber eyes so cold, you felt a shiver run across your spine. 

“You're one to talk when you've been going on killing sprees in the middle of the night.” Kuroo clicked his tongue as he dished out his words with no remorse in his tone.

That was quite a tall accusation even for the commander, and out of concern more than anything else, your fingers clamped around the smooth fabric of Oikawa's robes. The warlord spared you a fleeting glance from his peripheral, and you didn't miss the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a reassuring smile. 

At the same time, another party had joined the fray—Sawamura and Ukai squeezing past the two commanders that backed Kuroo up from behind. The sight of two familiar faces made your agitation ebb away, a relieved sigh leaving you as they both knelt to your side. 

Rising to his feet, Oikawa let out an exasperated breath, running slender fingers through silken tufts. “Whatever it is you're on about, I have nothing to do with it.”

“The evidence we've found in your belongings begs to differ, my lord,” Sawamura spoke the words through gritted teeth, tossing something that bounced across the tatami—a kitsune mask!

The culprit is as quick as a fox. _Saw it with my own two eyes_ , Yukie, a kind woman who ran a general merchandise shop, had told you in your most recent trip to town. 

_You couldn't outrun him even if it was the last thing you did._

Oikawa stared at the mask with glaring disinterest, turning back to Kuroo with an unimpressed look. “What am I supposed to make of this?”

“Eh? Why's he pretending he doesn't know what it is?” Bokuto whined from where he stood, earning him a reprimanding glare from Ushijima. 

“Lord Bokuto, the first instinct a cornered suspect has is to dissociate himself from the allegations pressed against him,” the commander chuckled, poking the mask with the sharp edge of his blade. 

Turning to Ukai, you tugged the sheet closer to your chest with a quiver in your lip. “W-What is he talking about?”

Ukai sighed, shrugging off his haori to drape it across your shoulders. Hesitation was evident in the owner's gaze, and that alone made your prior anxiety come rushing back. He was always calm and easygoing in your eyes, the smoke-addled scent he carried around being somewhat of a comfort despite the strict front he would put up for all those around him. Ukai was one of the few people you genuinely trusted because he anchored your sanity when it counted most. So, seeing him distraught about something struck a chord with you. 

“You've heard of the oiran Mika's passing, right?” His voice was quiet, so different from the lords arguing before you. You nodded. “Well, the perpetrator was also behind the other unfortunate murders sparking all over. He was said to don a kitsune mask that eerily resembled the one we saw in Lord Oikawa's things.” 

Oikawa whipped his head in Ukai's direction, scowling. “You know, I am often a favorite in the town gossip's scandalous stories, but even _this_ is taking it too far.” He pointed jabbed a finger at the mask, sweeping the present party with an incredulous stare—stopping right at Kuroo. “That _evidence_ of yours was obviously planted. Do you loathe me so much that you decided to pin the blame on me because it's convenient for you, Kuroo?” 

“Now, now, let's not jump to conclusions, Lord Oikawa—”

“ _You're_ the one jumping to conclusions here!” 

There was animosity present in the tone of their banter that unsettled you—making you wonder if they'd crossed words like this in the past. But you couldn't spare it another thought when Sawamura directed his attention to you once more.

“Taiyou-sama, are you hurt anywhere? Did he do anything drastic?” the samurai wondered but refrained from probing too much. You shook your head, still processing the information handed to you so abruptly.

Lord Oikawa, the man you welcomed into your body not _ten_ minutes ago, was a suspect for the Yoshiwara murders. The warlord with a touch as tender as a real lover's, the one that poured honeyed words into your ears—he was being condemned as the mastermind.

If he was the one behind those grotesque killings then the chances of you never seeing the sun rise tomorrow were all too real. Had the three lords and your companions not intervened, then...

With a bated breath, you looked back up. Bokuto was desperately trying to break up the heated argument between Kuroo and Oikawa while Ushijima merely hovered at the sidelines; seeming concerned but not interfering. Ukai was rubbing your back in soothing circles, and Sawamura was just about to say something again until his face flickered with alertness—snapping his gaze towards the windows for reasons that eluded you.

“Taiyou-sama, get down!” 

In the midst of your disconcertment over Oikawa's allegations, you were slow to process the samurai's words. But he did you one too many favors by forcing your head down with his large palm, slamming your face into the futon. You yelped at the abrupt contact of your nose against the floor, but you didn't have any time to voice out your complaints when the wooden grills of the windows _exploded_. 

You felt splinters of wood pelting your skin from the impact of the deafening blast. Struggling to catch sight of the situation, you twisted your neck in an angle that burned your muscles a little as Sawamura drew his sword. From where they stood, the lords had stopped bickering, just as surprised by the sight of smoke rising from the explosion. The scent of burnt gunpowder wrinkled your nose and you squirmed out of Sawamura's hold to skid away from the window. 

Ukai immediately dashed in front of you, holding out a protective arm out of reflex. He'd been so cordial all this time that you momentarily forgot that the owner of Karasuno used to be a samurai, as well. 

As the dust settled around the room, a silver kunai hurtled towards you faster than you could react. Despite its speed, however, everything started moving in slow motion in the next preceding moment. The spaces in between seconds stretched far longer than normal, yet you could only sit frozen in fear as it slowly, slowly closed the distance between the sharp tip and your face. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, so quick to accept your fate that you hadn't noticed the statuesque figure dashing directly before you and Ukai. Time started flowing normally again, and the sound of metal being deflected against the flat of Ushijima's blade resounded in the room. 

Lips parted in muted surprise, you glanced up at the commander with one part fear and two parts awe. His strong arms were poised in a defensive stance, brow furrowed with concentration as he cast the discarded kunai a withering stare. How...how did someone as gargantuan as he was rush to protect you so swiftly? 

But then, something glinted in the corner of your eye.

The wall of the room had been caved in, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the building wide enough to rob you of your privacy. Ukai was asking if you were hurt, but you couldn't give him a coherent answer—not when you saw two, golden specks through the haze of smoke that continued to rise from the rubble. 

A pair of yellow eyes shone through the darkness, and you could have sworn you also witnessed a crooked, ivory grin complementing the cruel gaze. But your view was obstructed by Sawamura who immediately padded across the tatami to check on you. When you tried looking over his shoulder, though, it was gone. 

“You have accomplices, too, huh?” You could hear the rage in Kuroo's tone, making you look back at them as the commander seized Oikawa's arm. “Mighty fine job at distracting us, my lord. Now, to the Shinsengumi compound you go!” 

The mention of him having to come along to the precinct roused Oikawa from his prior aloofness. Dread pooled in his almond eyes as he darted his gaze towards you. 

“Taiyou-sama,” he began, voice trembling in a manner unbecoming of a warlord. “You're fully aware I wouldn't do anything to harm you, right? You know that I am being framed for something I did not do, right?”

But that was the thing—you _didn't_ know. You couldn't exactly vouch for this man's integrity when you'd only met him on the same night. But...

You couldn't bring yourself to believe the accusations pinned on him either.

When Kuroo started speaking over Oikawa again, their loud voices intermingled in a cacophony of noise that made your temples throb. “Taiyou-sama knows I didn't do it,” said Oikawa. “Yeah, because we stopped you before you could do anything!” argued Kuroo, to which Oikawa rebutted with, ”Let's ask Taiyou-sama what she thinks, then!”

Instinctively, you curled in on yourself, raising your hands to cup your ears in a futile attempt to block them out. To your side, Ukai's face stiffened at the familiar habit, but your mind barely registered his words when he told you, _hey. Hey. Snap out of it. Taiyou-sama—_

**_Snap!_ **

_The sound of a whip cracking against human skin echoed in the empty room, a child's cries following it thereafter. A pitiless grimace etched itself on the Sun of Yoshiwara's face—a sight she would never let any of her loyal patrons see. If she was a goddess to the clueless men that threw themselves at her feet, that would make her the devil that raised hell on Earth to carve suffering itself into every niche of your body._

_“ P-Please,” you croaked, shuddering as you felt her bring the whip down on the open sores on your back. Warm, crimson liquid gushed down your lesioned skin, and you couldn't even begin to think about how the woman who birthed you could bear to inflict harm on her own child. “Mother—”_

_“ That is not my name.” Even the way she spoke to you was devoid of any affection. But despite her cold, unfeeling words, she still had the voice of an angel. “Not only did you embarrass me in front of an important retainer, but it seems that you've forgotten your place, brat. Look at me.” _

_With snot and tears dribbling down your chin, you glanced up at Yoshiwara's top-selling oiran through misty eyes. The cherry rouge that painted her lips bright red was the same color as the blood—your blood—that stained the tatami flooring. How could someone with beauty bestowed by the gods themselves be so cruel?_

_“ I keep you by my side for tea with the patrons since you'll be taking my place one day. I want you to learn how to humor those idiots and squeeze as much money from them as you can firsthand.” Her lips spread into an unfeeling smile, probing your chin to tilt your head uncomfortably high. “You're my child, so no other whore gets the same privilege. Yet, you took it for granted by running your disgusting little mouth.”_

_But you didn't do anything wrong. Her patron had asked you a question and you'd only answered truthfully._

_“ Taiyou-sama is better at pleasing men than being a mother, sir.”_

_She cracked the whip once again, slashing a new wound on your back that had you howling in agony. In the corner of your eye, you could see minimal movement in the sliding screen left slightly ajar. You knew the other ladies of the house were watching; doing nothing as the woman in front of you etched violence disguised as discipline into your body. But you knew better than to resent them._

_Nobody could go against Taiyou-sama, after all._

_When you were reduced to nothing but a boneless, bleeding mess on the floor, she roughly grabbed you by the chin—the abrupt movement stretching your wounds wide._

_“ The Sun has no need for opinions. You just nod and smile,” she spat. “All you had to do was sit still and pretty, and you couldn't even do that right?!”_

_Your throat felt raw. You could hardly utter another noise when she unceremoniously threw you on the floor, discarding her bloody whip right next to your limp and naked form. “Saeko,” the oiran barked. ”Clean up this mess. I better not see a single speck of blood when I get back.”_

_“ Y-Yes, Taiyou-sama!”_

_In your waning vision, the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen turned her back on you, exiting the room with an ominous air. You could see black spots dotting your vision as you began to lose the feeling in your back. But just before you could slip away, a girl that was just a few years your senior knelt beside you—auburn eyes gazing at you with both worry and pity._

_As the soft spoken girl tended to your injuries, the same words kept ringing inside your head like an endless mantra._

_**The Sun has no need for opinions. You just nod and smile.** _

“Get out.”

The sound of Ukai's voice reeled you back into the present, tear-stricken eyes widened in surprise when the brothel's owner stood up, glaring at the unwelcome warlords in the room. ”You found your suspect now, have you? You're causing Taiyou-sama unneeded distress, and we would be more than delighted if you went on your way.”

Oikawa didn't seem very keen with that plan. “But—”

“Lord Oikawa.”

This time, it was Ushijima who spoke, startling both parties yet again. “If you wish to plead innocence, I will have my men contact the Blue Castle.” He sheathed his sword back in the scabbard on his waist, not even sparing you a single glance as he walked back to his companions. “But for now, since all evidence paints you as the culprit, you will have to be detained in the Shinsengumi compound until further notice.”

When Oikawa was about to open his mouth yet again, Bokuto clamped a hand over his face in the most perfunctory manner possible. “Hey, hey, if you talk any more, you'll just make things hard for you! Come along now, little lord.”

Given that the Owl Commander nearly had the same figure as Ushijima, he hoisted the warlord by his hips, slinging him like a towel over his broad shoulder with little effort. Oikawa squawked in protest as Bokuto carried him out of the room—leaving you alone with Kuroo, Ushijima, and your own companions.

The commander of the Shinsengumi sighed, putting his sword away as well before ducking his whole torso into a ninety degree bow. 

“I apologize for the trouble we have caused you,” he spoke with much more sincerity than you'd expect him to have. “On behalf of the Bakufu, I give you my sincerest thanks for—”

“Get. Out.” Ukai spoke the words condescendingly, prompting the commander to assume his normal posture.

Chuckling, Kuroo shook his head and for a short-lived moment, his gaze caught yours. The twitch of his lip was hard to miss before he said, “Lord Ushijima, let's go.”

The Eagle Commander seemed to not have any more words to impart, agreeing with Kuroo with but a single huff. On his way out, he picked up the kitsune mask that littered the floor, possibly to preserve the evidence against Oikawa for as long as necessary. Once the two of them had stepped outside, you found yourself collapsing into Sawamura's chest. The samurai startled, but held you in place regardless. 

“Sawamura, carry her to her quarters. Don't keep your eyes off her even for a second,” Ukai ordered before standing up, making the motions to follow the storm of feudal lords that wreaked havoc upon his humble business. 

Sawamura was quick on his wits, not allowing any delay with his orders when he hooked his arms around your back and behind your knees. The loose fabric of Ukai's haori fell to the side, uncovering your breast, but any samurai that worked as a guard dog in Yoshiwara was trained not to get flustered at the sight of a woman's bosom. 

You supposed the psychological turmoil coupled by the physical strain of Oikawa having his way with you was the cause of your fatigue. But Sawamura was keen enough to notice your exhaustion—opting to keep his strides unhurried, as if he didn't want to disturb your half-dozing form. As you nuzzled your face further into his chest, you couldn't help but find the scent that clung to his own clothes rather calming—sandalwood with a hint of vanilla. What a strange scent. 

The samurai was awfully gentle as he laid you on your futon in the room Ukai had designated for you some time ago. It seemed freshly laundered, judging by the smoothness of the surface against your skin. You were about to make a mental note to thank Yachi for her hard work when you felt Sawamura peeling himself away from you. Out of instinct, you tugged on his wrist with minimal urgency, prompting him to look back at you with confusion.

“Can you...lay with me for a while?” you whispered, a bit embarrassed to ask such a favor from him. 

Something like hesitation flashes across his eyes for a moment, but he relents, either way—kneeling beside you on the futon. 

“Lord Ukai might strip me of my title if he finds me lying with you, Taiyou-sama,” he chuckled. “But I suppose there wouldn't be a problem if I stayed by your side.”

You wanted to tell him that as long as he was near enough that his scent could envelop you like a blanket of warmth, you wouldn't mind. But the heaviness weighing down your eyelids robbed you of your tenacity. 

“Thank you,” was what you said instead as Sawamura draped your body with a thin blanket.

But even with the knowledge that you were more than safe under the watchful gaze of the samurai guarding you, he couldn't give you any reprieve from the sight that materialized behind your eyelids. _Two specks of gold in the dark. A crooked smile that told of mischief and nothing good._

Somehow, you knew that this wasn't over just yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can have a little chat with me on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) or support me on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai) (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ


	4. Death to a Samurai

“Taiyou-sama, could you air these out for me?” 

One of your fellow oirans, Yui, pleaded from behind you. Looking up from the flowers you were tending to on the balcony, you turned to face her with a grin. She heaved the bunched up futon in your arms, a sigh of relief resounding in the air. 

“I'm so sorry to bother you,” she said, bowing her head slightly as she clapped her hands together in penance. “It's just that I have to wash the used ones piling up in the laundry room. That one was from the cabinets.” 

Your lips twitched into a soft smile. “No need to apologize, Yui. No one is exempted from housework after all.” 

She ended your conversation with a slight nod of her head before heading back inside. With a shallow exhale, you hung the futon across the banister, wondering where the airing stick was until you found it hanging on a hook by the wall. Just as you were about to push back the sleeves of your yukata, the sound of another voice yelling in greeting made you drop the stick in surprise—watching it skid down the hardened clay roof before someone jutted out their foot to catch it.

“N-Nishinoya?” you drawled incredulously, eyeing the young samurai that was walking on the damn roof.

He beamed at you, gripping the airing stick with his toes before wobbling dangerously close to the ledge. To your utter relief, Nishinoya managed to toss it to his hand to give it back. Still, the gaping look you sent his way didn't recede. 

“What are you doing there?” The concern in your voice was overshadowed by curiosity. 

Nishinoya jammed a thumb around the corner that was out of your field of view. “Ukai-san told us to fix the hole in the building as soon as we can.”

“Noya-san,” you heard Tsukishima call out, prompting you to duck your head out. You'd forgotten that the room right next to the balcony was the one you had...accommodated Oikawa the previous evening, and it was the same one that had suffered damage that was sure to sap a hefty amount from the brothel's revenue. True to Nishinoya's word, though, they _were_ making the necessary repairs somehow. Was this Ukai's way of minimizing expenses?

A glint of irritation flickered through Tsukishima's glasses as he held a plank of wood against the ruined wall. They seemed to have already boarded up the hole halfway, though it was obvious it hadn't been the work of a skilled carpenter. You stifled a soft laugh, waving a hand in Tsukishima's direction.

“Please stop bothering Taiyou-sama and help out,” he grumbled, going red in the face when he returned your gesture with a barely there nod. 

Nishinoya muttered something about being stingy before bowing his head before you. “Just call us if you need any help, Taiyou-sama!”

As the samurai practically skipped back to their workplace with little concern for his safety, you found yourself heaving a long sigh, tilting your head up to squint at the cloudless sky. You shielded your eyes from the sunlight that spilled onto the balcony before your gaze drifted back to the land below. Some familiar oirans milled around doing errands, visiting friends, or whatever it was they had on their agenda for the day. You also spotted a couple of samurai betting on whose spit could reach the farthest, too (at least, that was how it looked in your eyes).

Yoshiwara in the daytime wasn't as bustling as it was at night, for brothels used these few hours of reprieve to let their women rest and to get the daily chores over with just like you were now. But you supposed the highlight of your afternoons came in the form of readily brewed gossip.

“Have you heard about the foreigners running the new onigiri shop just a short distance from here?” 

“Ai-chan, they're not _foreigners_. They just came from a faraway province.”

“Oh? You're awfully informed aren't you, Kanae-san?” 

“Q-Quit it! I just thought there wasn't any harm in having a little small talk with the newcomers.”

“Hm. That _is_ true. If you're here long enough, you'll get used to segregating locals and regulars from the others. And—oh! Taiyou-sama, good day!”

Kanae and Aiko, the two latest additions to Karasuno's roster of regulars, greeted you with cheery smiles. You hadn't been able to see them last night, since Ukai granted the rest of the oirans the night off (apart from Saeko who serviced a certain ebony-haired policeman). They must have taken advantage of the rare occasion and slept the night away given that Aiko was yet to pat down her bedhead. As you took a seat beside them by the foyer, Kanae made the motions to stand, asking if you'd like some tea, but it was a request you humbly declined. 

“I already broke my fast just a little bit after sunrise,” you chuckled. 

“Really?” Aiko marvelled. “Didn't you have a client last night, Taiyou-sama? None of the samurai are letting us in on what happened, but it's a miracle you were able to recuperate so quickly.”

Kanae giggled, bringing a cup of tea closer to her lips. “That's our Taiyou-sama.” 

As your two juniors quickly became enraptured in another topic of conversation, you shifted uneasily in your seat, recalling the events from the previous evening with haunting clarity. Everything happened too fast that you doubted you'd even remember much of it come morning, but that wasn't the case. The memories still flashed vividly in your head. Oikawa's sultry sweet voice, the allegations accused of him, the explosion, the golden-eyed figure in the darkness—

“Taiyou-sama, do you ever think of leaving this place?”

You had been spacing out for so long, you almost didn't hear it when Aiko posited the question. Kanae nudged her by the elbow, chiding her in a hushed tone, but you cracked them both an easygoing smile. Despite the honor and privilege that came with your title, you never once tried to wield either, so the unnecessarily formal way at which others acted around you still left you puzzled. Going back to Aiko's odd inquiry, however, you decided to meditate about it for a few moments. 

As stated in Yoshiwara's own laws, once you became a courtesan in the red light district, you could never leave unless the owner of the brothel concerned allowed it. Any infraction against that one highly maintained rule would lead to the execution of a courtesan foolish enough to attempt an escape. Their slaughter was to be carried out by the samurai stationed in the brothel they came from, making the idea more gruesome than it should be. The relationship between Karasuno's samurai and courtesans was one of the most tightly knit you'd ever seen, and just thinking about any of the men you'd come to trust having to cut down one of your own... It wasn't something you dwelled on a lot because your destiny had already been determined long ago.

But that didn't mean didn't fantasize about it every now and again.

“I think it's safe to say that all of us dreamed of it, at least once,” you chuckled, rolling your shoulders to get rid of the cricks in your joints. “But that's all it is—a dream. One that we can't achieve no matter how hard we tried.”

When a thick silence settled around the three of you, a peal of unease lodged itself inside your chest. They were new to this! You shouldn't have discouraged them so early. Your answer was a bit too nihilistic, and you decided to at least distract them from it at the last moment.

“Ah, what prompted you to ask?” you wondered. “Is Lord Ukai not treating you well?”

Both of them sputtered with their words and Kanae even choked on her drink. As you rubbed her back, Aiko stepped up to heed your inquiry. “O-Of course not, Taiyou-sama! Ukai-san has been very kind... The two of us had nowhere to go, and he took us in. We're indebted to him!”

Kanae nodded in agreement, managing a tight smile. “Ukai-san is certainly kinder than the other owners in this town. If I'm going to have to spend my whole life in Yoshiwara, I'd rather it be here at Karasuno.”

White noise rang in your ears at their honest answers, filling you with a wealth of happiness you didn't even know you could feel over something so trivial. You supposed the feeling stemmed from your own friendship with the owner. Ukai had been there for you when you were lost in the dark, and he was still doing the same for other women who'd gone astray years later. If you could have things your way, you'd shove the title of ”The Sun of Yoshiwara” onto _him_ instead. 

“I guess we were just curious about Taiyou-sama's feelings,” Aiko admitted, her cheeks flushing crimson. “So even the Sun wishes to flee sometimes, as well...”

You pursed your lips into a taut line, that momentary flush of glee quickly draining its way out of your posture. As the highest paid courtesan, you were an exemplar among oirans not only for those in Karasuno, but the entirety of Yoshiwara itself. You prayed that your little revelation wouldn't plant any ideas in their heads because the last thing you wanted was to inspire them into doing something reckless. Even your power could go only so far if they were to go against the iron tight laws that governed this town in the shadows.

“Oh! Good day, ladies.”

You craned your neck behind you at the deep-set tone of Sawamura's voice. The samurai was dressed in casual robes, as if heading out for the day, but his sword was still strapped securely to his hip. He flashed the three of you an earnest grin, and you suddenly recalled that he stood guard as you slept last night. Right! You haven't thanked him properly yet!

“I'll be heading out,” Sawamura announces as he maneuvers around the three of you. But just before he can step out of the gates, you rushed to his side, seizing his wrist before he could react. The captain jerked at your touch, obviously caught off guard, but didn't pull away when you shot him a pleading look.

“Can I come with you?”

* * *

“You really shouldn't be out in the streets right now, Taiyou-sama.”

The concern underlining Sawamura's words went over your head as you flashed him a curt smile, letting the soft wind catch in the sleeves of your yukata. “Why? I've got you to protect me, don't I?”

Sawamura breathed out a deafeated sigh, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “There really is no convincing you when you've made up your mind.” 

“As if you aren't already used to my crass behavior,” you parried, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “Besides, I...”

The words you'd been rehearsing in your head turned to ash on your tongue. What's worse was that you were already contemplating about it the moment you woke up at daybreak. When you found Sawamura dozing beside your futon, you'd been hesitant to shake him awake, but now you wished you could have just gotten it over with.

Two words. All you had to say was _two words_ , but you were so distracted by the scar on his slightly parted lips coupled with the steady rise and fall of his chest that you didn't have it in you to disturb him. You'd even spared the time to drape a blanket on him (just like how he did for you) before promptly preparing breakfast downstairs.

“Taiyou-sama?” Sawamura called out, brows knitted. “Is something the matter?” 

_Maybe...I can thank him some other time._

You shook your head, assuming the lively grin that played on your lips. “It's nothing. Why'd you even head out so early, Dai-chan? You meeting up with a girl you like or something?”

The old nickname slipped out before you could stop yourself, making you clamp a hand over your mouth. Gaze veering back to Sawamura, whose strides have significantly slowed, you didn't miss the way his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. An internal conflict sparked within your mind as you debated between taking back what you said or just letting it be. When the hell did being around Sawamura become so nerve-wracking? You grew up together, so you were _definitely_ past the I-don't-know-how-to-act-around-him phase.

Thankfully, you and him were on a one-track mind that spared both of you from further embarrassment. Instead of...acknowledging the way you addressed him just now, Sawamura merely shook his head in response to your inquiry.

“Nothing of the sort.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he stopped right in front of an unfamiliar shop. “We're already here, actually.” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you stared at the flimsy, hand-painted sign that was hung above the shoddy building. _Onigiri Miya_ , it said, and it unknowingly triggered a memory of your quiet conversation with Aiko and Kanae just a short while ago. An onigiri shop run by foreigners, huh.

“Oh? Taiyou-sama, Daichi! Good to see you!” 

The sound of wings frantically flapping around tore your gaze away from the sign before your eyes landed on a familiar face. Sugawara beamed at the two of you as his pet perched itself on top of his owner's shoulder. In the samurai's hands were a bunch of leaf-wrapped onigiri, which he swiftly stuffed inside his bindle. 

“I saw your gull flying around the area,” Sawamura chuckled, patting his friend on his unoccupied shoulder. “I'd daresay he was saying hello to me, weren't you, Hoshi?” 

The bird responded with a grating shriek, an obvious show of distaste for the captain's presence. You stifled your laughter when Sawamura's shoulders slumped with disappointment.

Ever since that odd patron hailing all the way from Chiba had given his pet gull to Ukai as a gift, the only person it didn't seem to harbor any hostility towards was Sugawara. Well, it was to be expected. You had the inkling that the gray-haired samurai was loved by both people and animals alike, but being able to tame an already aggressive _seagull_? The fact that Hoshi had been living somewhere out of his natural territory for so long was something you couldn't come to terms with either.

“Where have you been? You were gone for quite a while,” you mentioned, feeling Hoshi's striking, green eyes studying you with rapt attention. You hadn't seen other gulls aside from him, but you just knew that any animal shouldn't have that much expression in its gaze...

“Ah, I visited my mother back home. She came down with a fever,” Sugawara replied, hoisting the bindle over his shoulder. “My father was already taking good care of her, but I couldn't help but worry, you know? It's a good thing I haven't used up my monthly day-off yet.” 

“Sorry for the wait.”

A fourth person intruded on the conversation, and you noticed someone emerging from the dark curtain that led further inside the shop. With an apathetic look, a man with silver hair and eyes to match dumped some coins onto Sugawara's awaiting palm. The samurai smiled, bowing his head lightly as he grasped his change in a tight fist. 

“Hm?” the man hummed, one brow quirking curiously when his gaze latched onto you. “It's quite an honor to be visited by the Sun of Yoshiwara.”

You didn't miss the evident accent that lilted his words, and you were struck with the idea that he was probably the owner. Kanae was right. He most definitely wasn't from around these parts. 

“I'm but a normal woman in the day time, Miya-san,” you insisted.

“Please, Miya-san is my father,” he drawled lazily, leaning against the wall. “You can call me Osamu.” 

“Have you been doing business here for long?” you wondered, genuinely curious as to why you hadn't seen him before. “I heard that—”

All of a sudden, your ears were filled with Hoshi's furious squawking, those of which were now directed at the humble shop owner. He was even spreading his wings in a futile attempt at intimidating the much larger man, but Osamu didn't look startled. If anything, he even seemed a little annoyed. 

“Ah, Hoshi!” Sugawara scolded, handing his bindle to Sawamura before smoothing down the gull's feathers. “My apologies, Osamu-san. He hasn't acted up around strangers in a long time. I wonder what's gotten into him.” 

Osamu shrugged, waving away his concern with a single gesture. “I've never been any good with them animals, so s'fine. Anywho.” He paused, affixing that moonlit silver gaze on your astonished form. “I don't mind givin' out a discount or two for the next time you folks come by. Just bring Taiyou-sama's pretty face and we'll have a deal.”

“Taiyou-sama isn't a bargaining chip,” Sawamura spoke all of a sudden, tone dripping with animosity you didn't even know he could convey. 

Your mouth hung open, rubbing the samurai's back tentatively before letting out an uneasy chuckle. “Sorry about that. Dai-cha—ah, _Sawamura's_ just taking his job seriously. It was nice meeting you Osamu-san.”

The shop owner still harbored that unfazed look in his eye even as he waved one hand in farewell. “See you 'round, then.”

As the three of you walked back to Karasuno at a lethargic pace, you engaged Sawamura in conversation, given that Sugawara was too busy lecturing his seagull to participate. ”You were pretty worked up back there.” Your words were accompanied by a teasing undertone in hopes of lightening up the mood a little. The crease on Sawamura's forehead eased up a little, but it didn't fade.

“For the first time, the bird and I agree on one thing: there's something off about that person.” 

Your face twisted with bewilderment. “What do you mean?” 

You expected Sawamura to actually say something substantial because he wouldn't be the captain of the samurai corps if he wasn't as grounded to the facts before him as he was. But instead, all he was able to offer you was a wistful sigh. 

“I wish I knew the answer to that, too.”

* * *

Saeko stood in front of the gates when you finally got back and you knew from the uneasy manner she'd grasped her kiseru alone that something was amiss.

“You better come inside,” she muttered before turning on her heel, not even sparing Sugawara a proper welcome. The three of you exchanged odd glances with one another, but none could offer up a suggestion as to why the head oiran could be acting like that. Deciding to find out for yourself, you swiftly tailed Saeko inside. 

Sugawara excused himself before breaking off to head to the gardens—presumably to give Hoshi some food and water before putting him back in his cage. But as you and Sawamura emerged into the greeting hall with Saeko, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. 

“It's about time you arrived.”

The amber-eyed stare that Kuroo Tetsurou brandished you with was colder than the chilliest winter night. He had one hand resting on the sword on his waist—the same one he'd threatened you with the night prior. Before you could send a snarky response his way, though, Ukai intervened.

“Taiyou-sama, how was your stroll?” he asked, but the apprehension in his voice was glaringly evident. 

You frowned. “It is quite a lovely day out, but pray tell Lord Ukai, why is a man who pointed his blade at me here?”

“With all due respect, Taiyou-sama, I _did_ save your life by apprehending the prince,” scoffed Kuroo. ”A little gratitude would be appreciated.”

Prince...? Oikawa was a prince? 

Still shaken with your hostility towards the Shinsengumi commander, you shook your head—pushing that train of thought to the back of your mind as you made the motions to leave. “I'll be in my room if you need me.”

Just as you were about to swerve past Kuroo, however, he snatched your wrist in a tight grip. You whipped your head in his direction, a scowl distorting your features. At the same time, the familiar sound of a sword being hastily taken out of its scabbard rang in your ears. Sawamura shamelessly directed the tip of his own blade at Kuroo's neck with narrowed eyes.

“ _With all due respect_ , Lord Kuroo,” he nearly spat the words back at him. ”One doesn't just touch Taiyou-sama as one pleases.” 

The commander eyed Sawamura with the same amount of hostility before surrendering his grip. You immediately pulled your hand to your chest, caressing the spot where his hot touch burned your skin with its memory. When you looked back at him, Kuroo seemed to be procuring a...document of sorts from the lapels of his haori. 

“Going here is just as much a pain to me as it is to you, but alas, I have a job to do,” Kuroo sighed, shoving it in Sawamura's face. 

Face still twisted with distrust, Sawamura lowered his blade and examined the piece of parchment given to him. You padded over to his side, wondering what exactly it was until your lips parted with surprise. The familiar seal of the Bakufu was inked on top of the letter addressed to Ukai Keishin, the owner of the establishment that was Karasuno.

“In light of the previous attack on the aforementioned brothel, the shogun—the highest power in all of Japan—recognizes that the safety of Yoshiwara's citizens has been compromised,” Sawamura reiterated its contents with a tremble in his voice. “Therefore, the plan of action devised by him and his retainers begins with the detention of a certain (Surname) (Name), otherwise known as Taiyou-sama, in the Shinsengumi Compound... _What_?!”

You could feel your blood freezing underneath your fingertips—hands growing cold with agitation. Sawamura immediately sensed your distress, snapping his gaze back to you with a look torn between rage and pity, and for a moment, he seemed like he was about to jump Kuroo right there.

“Sawamura,” Ukai reprimanded with a deathly calm tone with his arms folded. “Continue.” 

Despite the obvious protest in Sawamura's eyes, he relented without question. “She has been recognized as a figurehead that represents Yoshiwara as a whole. Since those tasked with ensuring her safety have failed to do so, custody over (Surname) (Name) will be handed over to the Shinsengumi as further investigation ensues... Failure to comply with this humble request will result in the complete halting of all operations conducted by Karasuno.”

“Didn't you already apprehend the culprit?” The tone of Ukai's voice was equal parts patronizing and polite. “I don't understand why Taiyou-sama has to be detained.”

“Neither do I,” agreed Sawamura as his gaze narrowed further. 

Kuroo let out an exasperated sigh, scratching his head hastily. “Well, it's quite obvious from last night that there's more than one person involved. We may have apprehended the mastermind, but his lackeys are still scuttling about. Either way, why don't you just listen like good little citizens and do it when the shogun orders you to do something, hah?”

Silence befell the present party—one so stifling that a pin falling to the floor could sound like a scream. In the corner of your eye, you could see someone—no, a handful of people squirming behind flimsy sliding doors to eavesdrop. You didn't blame the other residents for wanting to know what exactly was happening here in Karasuno. It was evident from Aiko and Kanae's words from earlier that they saw this place not as a prison, but as a _home_. 

And it would be selfish of you to take that away from them.

“I'll go,” you told Kuroo, head held high with conviction that also carried in your words.

“Taiyou-sama!” protested Sawamura. “This...This is obviously a misunderstanding! The Bakufu shouldn't make light of the efforts we exerted to protect—”

“Living without protecting what needs to be protected, is the same as death to a samurai.” 

Kuroo closed the short distance that separated the two of you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, feline eyes transfixed on Sawamura. “I heard that from a kid at the old dojo I trained in. Judging by that logic, that makes you a dead man, doesn't it? You say you protected this _lovely_ woman right here, yet you couldn't even prevent last night from happening despite all the warning signs that littered this putrid town.”

“What are you trying to implicate?” Sawamura asked through gritted teeth. 

“What I'm saying is,” Kuroo began, mouth curling into an indifferent smirk, “you're _decades_ away from protecting anyone, you country bumpkin swordsman.”

“Lord Kuroo.” Your voice was stern as you cast him a disconcerted glare. “I agreed to come with you, didn't I? You have no need to provoke the people I've already entrusted my life to long ago.”

The tension that settled between the two samurai looked like it could boil over any minute, and you briefly wondered if it was in Kuroo's nature to aggravate anyone and everyone around him. He didn't seem to have a very swimming relationship with Oikawa either, but to pick a fight with Sawamura over a matter he didn't have to exaggerate like he did? 

“You have the rest of the day to pack your belongings,” the commander muttered, being the first to pull away from their heated staring. “I'll return at nightfall to escort you to the compound.”

Kuroo's exit felt like a storm passing through—having left nothing but destruction in its wake. Now, only four of you remained standing in the ruins, and Saeko was the first to reach out to you.

“Come on,” she murmured, tugging lightly on your wrist.

You hesitated, gaze drifting back to the forlorn samurai standing a few feet away from you. Sawamura's eyes were affixed on the letter from the Bakufu, but at the same time they weren't. A dull ache pulsated in your heart, and you wanted nothing but to reassure him that everything that Kuroo said was wrong. That he carried out his duty better than anyone else you knew.

But there were some things that people—especially _samurai_ —had to figure out for themselves.

You gave Ukai one last nod in acknowledgement, a gesture he returned with a tightly wrung smile, before wordlessly following Saeko up to your room. Even with your back turned to him, the edge of Sawamura's trembling frown followed you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things to take note of:
> 
> \- Well, I won't beat around the bush we all know Suga's pet seagull, Hoshi is _indeed_ Hoshiumi (but you're all just going to find out why he's a mf seagull a little later). I'd just like to clarify that, yes, I know the Kamomedai guys are from the Nagano prefecture but I chose to make him come from Chiba, since geographically, it's closer to the sea. This fic is just a flurry of butchered up information anyway, though.
> 
> \- The quote, "Living without protecting what needs to be protected, is the same as death to a samurai," is actually an excerpt from Gintama. All rights to it go to the mangaka, Sorachi Hideaki, himself :3c
> 
> \- The word "protect" was abused in the latter half of this chapter, and will continue to be as the fic progresses [nervous laughter]
> 
> Also, thank you so much for all the encouraging comments you've left on Red Light Blues! My narration skills could still see better days, but nothing spurs me on to improve more than continuous feedback from you guys! Don't forget, I'm more than open to constructive criticism as well, since the themes in this story aren't very conventional and I might portray some events in ways that unsettle others. 
> 
> Well, that's pretty much it. Again, thanks for stopping by!


	5. An Irreplaceable Home

“Here we are.” 

As Kuroo helped lug around the only bag you owned, you gazed upon the entrance with a tiled roof serving as a canopy. There were two guards, each donned with a sleek red haoris, stationed by the gates, addressing their commander with a bow that Kuroo returned with a curt nod.

The Shinsengumi compound, as far as your limited knowledge of the world went, also doubled as a detaining facility for suspects put under surveillance. Despite Kuroo's countless reassurances that you were not being treated as such, the image the commander had carved for himself in your head didn't make him a very credible source. You shifted uneasily, shrinking in on yourself when you felt the guards' eyes on you.

“Oh? So that's the famous Taiyou-sama,” marvelled the gargantuan samurai with snowy white hair. His green eyes beheld a feline-like curiosity, and you couldn't bite down the feeling that you'd seen him somewhere before... 

“Lev, that's rude.” In contrast, his sandy-haired companion seemed to be reproachful, smacking the other guard despite the significant difference in their heights. “She already looks jittered as is. We don't need you agitating her even further.”

Lev pouted. “Yaku-san, I wasn't trying to be rude...”

”Well you were,” sighed Kuroo, who seemed to lack the usual snark you'd gotten used to hearing from him. If anything, he sounded amused, even. “Anyway, Taiyou-sama's going to be staying with us until we apprehend the culprit or the shogun lifts his orders. Whichever comes first.”

Yaku nodded solemnly, fingers tightening around the hilt of the katana on his waist. “Very well. Ah, welcome back, by the way.”

“You're being awfully nice to me today,” Kuroo snorted. 

“I'm doing this for _her_ , you insufferable—” At the last moment, Yaku reeled himself back in, breathing through his nose before stepping aside. “Welcome to the Shinsengumi Compound, Taiyou-sama. We have some experience with looking after important figures in the Bakufu, so rest assured, we will do the same for you.”

Lev chuckled beside him, patting Yaku on the shoulder. “Yaku-san, you weren't even this nice to those guys. Remember the time you almost got sentenced to death by— _oof_!”

“Lev, I swear if you don't pipe down, I'm going to stick my sword up your—” 

“You'd paint such a vivid image in Taiyou-sama's mind?!”

In the midst of their banter, you felt Kuroo tug on your arm with a single hand. You stared up at him, his gaze transfixed on his two subordinates with a look of fondness glossing over his eyes. This was...certainly an odd sight to behold. There was no trace of the cold hostility he'd brandished you and Sawamura with back at Karasuno. You also couldn't help but notice the way the warmth of his hand permeated through the fabric of your yukata.

Ever-so subtly, a crease tightened on your brow. 

“Let's go,” Kuroo murmured, snapping you out of your shameless staring before leading you inside. 

In the foyer, a couple more samurai milled around, going about their business for the evening. The indistinct sound of mellow chatter filled your ears, easing the tension that you hadn't even known found its way into your posture. It wasn't like you had any concrete expectations for what the Shinsengumi would be like. But upon seeing a little Daruma-san game in session with some of the younger members, you couldn't help but think, _are they really policemen?_

“Make no mistake, I'm not as forbearing with these idiots as you might assume.” The commander spoke like he'd read your thoughts through the smile that wormed its way to your face. “Training finishes at sundown, and they're free to make do with their time however they wish. _If_ they managed to survive the day's regimens, that is.”

Forgoing your agitation, you allowed yourself a little laugh. “Lord Kuroo, you're quite the tyrant, aren't you?” 

He shrugged, keeping his eyes forward. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

As he led you towards one of the buildings—residential quarters, you assumed—the way the unfamiliar samurai eyed you with curious looks didn't escape your notice. In spite of that, however, they opted not to pry, limiting their scrutiny to a second at most before turning their attention back to what they were previously doing. 

“Kuro.”

The voice that called out to the commander was so soft, you barely missed it. Craning your head back, you were met with the sight of a samurai with molten gold eyes, but you could see some flecks of irritation on his face. Like he'd been kept waiting for much longer than he wanted.

“Kenma!” Kuroo greeted him cheerily, bracing the hand that wasn't carrying your bag on his hip. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being cornered by the Shinsengumi's expert tactician?”

“Don't call me that.” His tone was sharp enough to cut through Kuroo's futile advances for an easygoing conversation, but despite that, he handed the commander a neat stack of parchment bound on one side with some sturdy-looking string. “I was looking all over for you so I can hand this in. What took you so long?”

With a sneer spreading across his lips, Kuroo patted his subordinate's head with a tenderness that was somewhat out of place. “No need to get so worked up. You know I'll always come back home at the end of the day—”

“Quit treating me like a child!” Kenma's voice scaled louder this time, attracting the attention of some of the other members in the vicinity. Kuroo faltered, his mask of frivolity chipping away before he let out a defeated sigh. He grabbed the documents Kenma was handing to him, tucking them underneath his arm. Your eyes darted between the two samurai, wondering if you should even be here to witness something that seemed like none of your business to begin with...

“Hey now, we can't afford to make a bad impression in front of our guest, can we?”

Weighted steps made the wooden platform groan beneath, prompting you look back at the elderly man who emerged from one of the rooms that lined the hall. His wrinkly face scrunched up further as he flashed you a toothy grin. Accompanying him were two younger samurai, one with a clean cut hairdo and another with spiky brunet tresses. But despite the way they hovered behind the old man like they regarded him with respect, all that came out of your mouth was:

“You're Yassan...right? The owner of Nekoma?”

The words alone seemed enough to charge the atmosphere with the collective nervousness of those near enough to hear you. Even Nekomata himself froze for a split second before regaining his composure. A haughty laugh found its way from his lips, and the sound noticeably lulled the others into some semblance of repose. 

“Well, yes. The moniker used by the owner of the whore house called Nekoma is _Yassan_ ,” he acquiesced, putting a finger over his lips. “But I, Nekomata Yasufumi, am the director of Edo's police force. To put it simply, I'm little Kuroo's direct superior.”

To your side, Kuroo coughed awkwardly. “Nekomata-san, I should really escort Taiyou-sama to her room. She must've had a long day.”

”I am quite alright, Lord Kuroo,” you refuted sharply, more to spite him than anything else. But you couldn't deny that you were also curious. Why did Kuroo's superior own a brothel in Yoshiwara? You knew corruption beneath the intricate hierarchy of the Bakufu existed, but not to _that_ extent. 

Nekomata nodded as he stared at his subordinates. “Of course it would be rude of us not to properly introduce ourselves. Go on, make Taiyou-sama familiar with her new guards.”

The man with close-cropped hair escorting Nekomata was the first to speak up. “My name is Kai Nobuyuki. Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi at your service, Taiyou-sama.” He ended his short introduction with a bow and a kind smile. Out of all the faces you'd seen inside the compound thus far, he seemed like the most collected out of all of them.

“I'm Inuoka Sou. I just got promoted into the ranks a few weeks ago, but I'll guard you with my life!” The energetic brunet right next to Nekomata sputtered his words in a bubbly fashion. He kind of reminded you of the foreign yet familiar looking fellow stationed outside. What was his name again? Lev?

Grumbling in front of you was Kenma, who shifted his weight on either foot. “Kozume Kenma. Captain of the Intelligence Division.” Well, that explained why he was in a rush to hand Kuroo those documents. They might be crucial to the investigation they're conducting in Yoshiwara, for all you knew.

“You already know who I am,” Kuroo interceded before you could even say a word, a sleazy grin plastered on his handsome face. 

“Oh, believe me. I know you _very_ well.” Your eyes narrowed into slits as you pulled your lips into a taut line. He might have drifted a bit from the rude policeman you met in Karasuno, but you couldn't afford to be lenient. Aside from Nekomata, you knew Kuroo the longest but he also seemed like the last person you'd want to befriend.

“Well, there you have it.” Nekomata smiled once more. “Would you like to accompany us for supper, Taiyou-sama?”

The way he easily coaxed the anxiety in your system from that short conversation alone compelled you to say yes. They were kind enough to take you in while there was still an active threat to your life, but something held you back. Memories spent cooking supper with Kiyoko and the girls back home, making preparations to accommodate patrons for the night, and the intimidating looks your boys would assume once the clients started pouring inside—all these flitted in the back of your mind, telling you that sharing a table with a bunch of strangers wasn't something you were supposed to do. 

With a nervous twitch of your mouth, you quietly said:

“Thank you, but I'd like to retire to my room now.”

* * *

“You're hungry, aren't you?” 

You spared Kuroo a sideways glance as you knelt by your futon, fluffing the pillow with one brow shot up in inquiry. “What ever made you think that?”

“I have good intuition,” he said, leaning against the wall with arms folded. “You just didn't want to dine with people you don't know, am I right?” 

Not wanting to give Kuroo the satisfaction of being right, you turned your back to him—carefully undoing the strings of your bag in lieu of an answer. You didn't bring much. Just a few changes of clothes, a pocketbook, and two onigiris that Sugawara had wrapped in a couple more layers of leaves. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, already missing those you left back home. 

You decided against keeping your silence a few minutes later. “No. I brought something to eat so I wouldn't have to indulge in your rations.” Kuroo's eyes slanted with suspicion, and you couldn't blame him. Although what you said was true, two pieces of onigiri would hardly make for a sufficient dinner. But...just to throw him off a little more, you added, “Besides, I wouldn't think you would like to sit at the same table as me.”

“Look,” he began, a sigh tearing its way past his mouth, “you are not a prisoner, okay? So stop treating me like I'm your jail guard.”

“I never even thought that,” you argued. “I just want to know why you pointed a sword at me that night, why you're suddenly so different from the man I'd met in Karasuno, and...” 

You couldn't bring yourself to continue that sentence. Because you wanted to know why he was such an indomitable prick to you? No, you weren't some woman who cared about what a man of his (multifaceted?) personality thought about you. Still, your words seemed to astonish the commander, leaving him wide-eyed and stunted in silence. 

He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, muttering something out of earshot. You couldn't bring yourself to ease the uptight expression that tugged on your face, still at a crossroads about what you were going to make of him. Out of all the people who could have been assigned to watch over you, it just _had_ to be the man you were most wary of. Even Oikawa, who was allegedly the prime suspect in the killings, didn't make your mind as frazzled as Kuroo did. 

“If you no longer have anything to say to me, may I kindly request you to leave?” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I would like to get some much needed—”

Before you could get another word out, you were spun around to your feet. You could only gape in surprise as Kuroo pulled you into his lean torso—slender fingers knotting through your intricate hairdo as he held you in place. The position you were in forced you to look deep into eyes of timeworn amber so mesmerizing, they distracted you from your prior hostility. Not knowing where to even place your hands, you reluctantly laid them on top of his chest; the slightest touch making blood sizzle beneath your fingertips. It didn't help that his body emanated a familiar heat you'd only felt from clients after a long night of copulation—tearing your conviction asunder. 

“I...apologize,” he breathed, voice barely a touch above a whisper. “I certainly believe that no reason would be enough to justify my behavior, but since you'll be living with us for an indefinite amount of time, I'd like you to consider overlooking that mistake on my part.”

Kuroo was being unfair; he really was. How were you supposed to hiss and tell him _no, you get what you deserve_ when he was holding you so tenderly? The hand that was clamped around your wrist, preventing you to flee from his grasp, was so _warm_ —so unlike the rigid chill in his eyes when he'd gazed at you earlier in the day. Your lip quivered with an emotion you couldn't quite place, forcing yourself to peel away from his smoldering gaze. Why was a man that had been so crass with you acting this way?

Those few discrete moments felt as if they'd been stretched into eternities until Kuroo finally decided to let you go. You staggered on your own feet, breathless even though you did nothing that warranted strenuous effort. Your heart thumped violently in your chest, ignoring the way your stomach sank as Kuroo turned on his heel to leave. Even though you were flooded with relief at his anticipated departure, a smaller, less reasonable part of you wanted him to stay—to let yourself bask in his heat for a little longer.

“Kuroo.” 

Your conscience screamed at you to stop. To just let the rude man go. But when he flicked his head back to affix you with those golden brown eyes of his coupled with a slight quirk of his lips, the voice in your head fell silent. 

You knelt on the tatami once again, wordlessly unwrapping the leaves that covered the onigiri. Kuroo's eyes were still on you, observing your every move with keen fervor as you laid a spare cloth you'd brought along on the floor—placing the two onigiris on top. When you stared up at him, his mouth had already curved into a sordid smirk. 

Forcing down your wounded pride, you asked him, “Would you like to accompany me for supper?”

* * *

The members of the Shinsengumi weren't all too different from the samurai of Karasuno. You could tell even just after a few days that all of them had a fair share of responsibility and mischief—both of which were misused more times than you could count. Just last night, you awoke to the sound of pots and pans crashing all the way from the kitchen in the next building over. Turns out, Kai had caught Lev sneaking out a midnight snack from the kitchen and made a mess of the place as he attempted a ”swift escape”. Before Kuroo could even sanction him for it, Yaku had already taken matters into his own hands. 

You supposed the only significant difference between living here and living in Karasuno (aside from the fact that you'd only been acquainted with these men for less than a week), was the absence of chores. 

In Yoshiwara, whores were expected to be able to keep up with housework alongside samurai, and you'd gotten used to always having something to do, that the Shinsengumi's insistence that you do _nothing_ was a bit new to you. Though you were spared from the hard labor most of the time, you weren't really used to being attended to like this. The policemen themselves were the ones to wash, hang, and fold your clothes, and they also followed a strict rotation system about who was in charge of preparing meals for the day. Even if they had a serious tendency to dawdle, the discipline hammered into their routine was rather commendable. 

Right now, one group was hard at work patrolling different villages and sectors around Edo, another was in charge of the Yoshiwara case, while those who remained in the compound were subject to Kuroo's hellish training. Today's main dish came in the form of swinging wooden swords five hundred times before sunset. 

“Kuroo-san, my arms are going to fall off,” Lev moaned somewhere behind the sturdy line formation “I can no longer go on...”

“Lev, Shibayama and I managed to procure some pork loin for tonight!” said Kai, who was egging him on from where he stood in between you and a vexed Kuroo. “I'll make sure to give you seconds if you get this over with.”

The mention of meat alone was enough to kickstart the ivory-haired samurai's determination, prompting him to swing his sword twice as fast than he had been moments ago. Kai stifled a lighthearted laugh while Kuroo's eye twitched. 

“He's going to grow up to be a rotten samurai if you spoil him too much, Kai,” the commander complained, but you didn't miss the pout that rested on his lips anyway.

“Someone's jealous,” you commented.

“Quiet, you.”

You didn't think life at the Shinsengumi Compound would be this...carefree? Enjoyable? You didn't really have the right word for it. But despite the hospitality they were showering you with, it didn't stop your mind from wandering back not only to the family you'd left in Karasuno, but to Yoshiwara as a whole. 

Someone was still prowling the streets in the dark—away from the sparse illumination of the lanterns strung overhead. Even if their main suspect was kept under reins, it didn't guarantee the safety of your fellow courtesans. Another woman could still be killed. Another life could still be sacrificed. To you, Yoshiwara was an irreplaceable home. Though it was far, _far_ from ideal, it was the best (and only one) you had.

Then, you remembered that somewhere in this compound was the presumed killer himself.

The desperation you'd seen on Oikawa's eyes refused to leave your mind no matter how hard you tried to dispel it. You'd been told countless times that you were too naive, too trusting—that you believed in the kindness of others even if they gave you no reason to. Oikawa was a man you'd only met once, and if you were to trust both his word and your gut, you'd only be branded as a fool. Accounting for that night alone, the evidence against him was too strong to deny. But even if you resigned yourself to the allegations pinned on him, it still didn't feel right; as if the mere idea of letting Oikawa take the blame made you sick to your stomach. 

And as the days slowly went by without any new leads from Yoshiwara, your patience began to thin. 

Kuroo was insistent with the fact that you were their guest and not their prisoner, so you were free to go wherever you wanted except for one area inside the compound: the dungeon. He refused to let you know where it was, and it wasn’t exactly visible in plain sight. You'd considered poking him about it more until he cracked, but the commander of the Shinsengumi wouldn't really have a conviction that was as weak as you hoped. The only way you could get the answers you wanted was to bide your time. 

Their rotations weren't just limited to cooking; they were also utilized in other tasks such as...guarding the dungeon from intruders of any sort. God knows where they got it, but there was a sheet of parchment paper wide enough to cover half a wall nailed in the meeting hall. It contained a weeks' worth of duties for each member, carefully assigned without accidentally overlapping schedules. The planning had been so intricately done, that you could only think that Kenma must have been behind all of this. You briefly wondered if the same system could work with Karasuno, but immediately shut the idea down as quickly as it surfaced.

While you skimmed through the complex listing, a certain samurai's schedule caught your eye. 

On the day after tomorrow, Kuroo mentioned he was going back to Yoshiwara to do some personal investigating—meaning he'd be out of the compound for a long while. What's more was that nearly half of the current roster would be dispatched for patrols, since Kuroo wouldn't be there to oversee training. And, just your luck, the person assigned to guard that dungeon for the day was none other than too-carefree-for-his-own-good Haiba Lev, himself. 

It wasn't like you're implying that Lev is a terrible guard. Sure, his leniency was a bit unbecoming for the task, but he could definitely take out a real intruder when it came down to it. However, out of all the people you could possibly attempt to convince to let you see the dungeon, Lev would be the one who'd most likely go along with it without a fuss. And once the day of reckoning came, it turned out that you'd played your cards right. 

“I dunno why Kuroo-san wants people out of the dungeon so badly.” Lev sighed. “He wasn't this uptight with other prisoners.”

That was all the confirmation you needed.

As he led you into an entrance hidden behind a seemingly plain alcove in the meeting room, your heart thumped with anticipation. A door disguised as a wall gave way at the slightest slide from the samurai, revealing a doorway that seemingly led to an abyss. A chilly breeze blew from inside, telling you that it at least had some windows (if not other doorways) that connected it outside. 

With a lantern in hand, Lev carefully descended with you into the darkness.

* * *

The dungeon beneath the Shinsengumi Compound was a feat that you didn't even know was possible. Lev mentioned it would be a five-minute walk from the compound to the actual place, but you could have sworn you'd already been traversing the underground cavern for over an hour now. The stretch of darkness that loomed before you seemed endless even in the steady lamp light that streamed from Lev's hand. Although you were more than unnerved to be here, Lev was chatting you up like you two were walking by a riverbank. 

“And that's why Yaku-san told me not to drink raw eggs from the shell.” He already concluded the tale you hadn't bothered listening to, and you felt a prick of remorse in your chest. It was bad enough that you were using him like this, but a lingering thought told you to use his lenience to your advantage. 

“Lev, can I ask you something?” He nodded.

Okay, you were going to go with something completely unrelated first. To test the waters. “Um, what's the Shinsengumi's affiliation to Nekoma?” 

Lev hummed, eyes gazing upward in contemplation. “Hmm, I don't really know if it's okay to say this but...before you can join the Shinsengumi, you have to serve as a samurai guard at Nekoma for at least half a year. That's how I got the job!”

You nodded, praising Nekomata's wicked skill for maximizing the efficiency of his hold on both groups. Alright, it seemed that Lev was being lax enough. “How about the prisoner being held in the dungeon? I heard he was behind the murders, so...do you think it's true?” 

“Oh, I don't know about that, Taiyou-sama,” he chuckled, and you began to notice that light was starting to catch on his pale skin, and it wasn't from the lantern. “You could ask him, yourself though. Oikawa-san is a bit snarky, but I'm sure he'll talk to you. He could be a little lonely sometimes.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

You paused, glancing before the wide space you suddenly stepped into; like a clearing in a forest. A few meters up, two handmade windows were carved from the rock and dirt, letting the sunlight rake through the grills. You expected the dungeon to be made of multiple cells that housed several suspects. But then again, the Shinsengumi wasn't a prison. It would make complete sense if only one man stood behind the wooden bars in the single cell that separated him from you and Lev.

“Oh, Haiba-chan brought me a visitor?” Oikawa Tooru's lips curled with satisfaction, and despite the grime and sweat that covered his face, he looked as handsome as the night he'd ravished you.

The warlord—no, the _prince_ got up from the floor, still making the effort to dust his soiled clothes. Even in the scarce lighting, you still thought aquamarine suited him too well, and you knew he could tell from the coy smile that rested on his mouth.

“Oh, my,” he sighed dramatically. “I'm afraid I'm yet to make up for our...interrupted love affair, Taiyou-sama. But I suppose you're not here for that, are you?” 

You nodded, taking a step forward. “You're right, Lord Oikawa. I'm here for something else entirely.”

For a moment, you took the liberty to spare Lev a fleeting glance, only to see that he had his back turned to the both of you, humming a song that was out of tune. A soft smile tugged on your lips. You were beginning to suspect that he wasn't as air-headed as he let on. 

With newfound conviction, you turned back to Oikawa, and with a deep breath you said:

“I want to know the truth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> War criminal comeback~ Also, some more notes:
> 
> \- I've been wording Kuroo's title as "captain" instead of "commander", so that's been fixed now aha!
> 
> \- I mentioned some of the Shinsengumi members playing Daruma-san, which was based off [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oZHlHNxKT8) scene from Ouran High School Host Club. I headcanon them as a bunch of dumbasses heehee


	6. Lovers' Promise

“So, what do you wish to know?” 

Oikawa took the liberty to sit on the floor, not even minding the muck that further stained his hakama. He peered at you curiously with hazel eyes that glinted in the scarce lighting, and you noticed that he was unexpectedly poised. There was no tension in his posture, so unlike yourself, whose nerves were all over the place.

Being in front of him like this, separated by wooden grills that spoke volume of his current status as a suspect, reminded you of the gravity of this little escapade of yours. You shouldn't be here. Kuroo specifically told you to avoid seeking this place out because this man could very well be the one who orchestrated your almost-assassination that night. He'd only been doing his job as your guard, yet you willingly walked yourself back into the hands of the potential mastermind, himself—practically rendering all the Shinsengumi's efforts for you useless.

But this oh-so foolish conscience of yours insisted that maybe...maybe he _wasn't_ behind all of it.

“Are you...” You gulped. ”Are you a prince?” 

He braced his palm on the ground, leaning his weight against it before cocking an eyebrow at you. “So the news is out, huh?”

“I don't think so... Lord Kuroo may have just let it slip once,” you explained, fidgeting with the sleeves of your kimono. “I remember one of the samurai in Karasuno calling you a warlord, and I just wished to clarify this.”

“Warlord, hmm. That's what I told Ukai, didn't I?” He spoke almost silently, as if having a private discussion with himself until he affixed those brown eyes back on your uneasy form. “I may have told your boss a white lie or two. Who knows what scandal will erupt in the castle once word goes around that the emperor's son was hanging around Yoshiwara?”

Others would have been offended by his coarse wording, but you'd grown so accustomed to nobles looking down on your lifestyle that you didn't find it in you to resent him for it. Providing pleasure was Yoshiwara's main selling point, and thinking that you could scrape anything beyond that strict barter was foolishness that even you didn't want to dip your toes in. Whores who yearned for more than what was meant for them would only wind up dead in a dark alley with no one to mourn them—not even those noblemen who'd promised to give them the world. You'd seen this happen enough times to know where your boundaries lied. To just keep your head down. To never defy the pillars of Yoshiwara's success—its uncompromising laws.

_Your job is to just nod and smile._

But...if courtesans were still being killed despite their strict obedience, if those robbed of their freedom continued to be sapped dry because of it—as the Sun, could you really afford to feign ignorance?

When you met Oikawa's gaze once more, your pulse evened out. 

“Were you the one who murdered all those women?” 

Your voice was small, quiet; like you couldn't quite decide on the right words to say. It made you feel a little silly, the moment the question left your lips. Why would you ask something that Oikawa could easily deny? You didn't know, yet you were willing to hear him out anyway.

The prince breathed languidly through his nose, mouth pressed into a fine line. “Taiyou-sama, do I have to fall to my knees to convince you that I'm not capable of doing such a dishonorable thing?” 

“That doesn't answer my question,” you parried.

He sighed, raking slender fingers through his mussed hair. “If I said no, would you believe me?” 

“Do I have a reason not to?”

A pause. “You're ridiculously trusting, do you know that?” 

“So I've been told.”

Oikawa's shoulders stuttered along with his muted laughter. “You're a curious one, indeed.” His eyes drooped half-lidded, gazing up at you through the curtain of his lashes. The smile that settled atop his lips beheld secrets that he practically held above your head, taunting you to reach them. But you stood your ground—waiting for him to give you a straight answer off his own volition. 

“There are certain... _things_ that the Bakufu hides from our citizens,” he began, one finger tracing idle shapes into the dirt. “Naturally, us in the Blue Castle know about those as well, but something didn't feel right; as if my father's soldiers were sparing him the important details.” The prince exhaled a long, forlorn sigh, eyes affixed on the small windows. “Ever since the shogun has risen to power, the emperor merely remained as a figurehead, and the royal family no longer had the authority it wielded decades prior. We were merely kept in the palace to keep up appearances, and let's just say that, as the prince, I am not very fond of that dynamic.”

You remained as quiet as humanly possible, fearing that even the slightest breath you were to draw would shatter the solemn ring of Oikawa's words. While you didn't know much about the world outside, you were made aware of the existence of both the emperor and the shogun, and those who served them. However, the shogun's influence had been so drastic these past few years that the royal family slowly dwindled out of the light—the country's citizens opting to trust the Bakufu to govern them instead. 

“Are you saying you're going to topple the Bakufu?” you wondered.

Oikawa shook his head. “Of course not. I merely wish to restore the balance of power to its rightful form. They've learned to hide things from the emperor, and I simply decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“Then, that would mean you already knew what was happening in Yoshiwara.” Your brows scrunched up in confusion, remembering something Hinata had said about Oikawa. “Why would you have to threaten my employer with bankruptcy when you could have just asked us to cooperate with the investigation?”

He froze up from where he sat, offering you a bout of uneasy chuckles. “Ah, that was an honest mistake on my part. I didn't mean to offend you, Taiyou-sama.”

You folded your arms across your chest, unconvinced. “How did they not recognize you, even? Is Oikawa Tooru even your real name?” 

“For someone who didn't receive a proper education, you surely know how to piece things together,” he pointed out, and you had to shove down the bite of offense that coiled in your stomach at his crass wording. “But, yes. Oikawa Tooru is indeed my real name. Although I am formally known as Prince Mizoguchi Tooru, Oikawa is my mother's surname.”

Mizoguchi...yes, you remembered now. That was the current clan that made up the royal family. But despite the revelation of his fluke identity, a dozen questions still lingered in your mind. Yet you couldn't pick out which one to ask him first. 

“Let me get this straight,” you spoke tersely. “You went to Yoshiwara because you think the Bakufu is hiding things—”

“Oh, I don't think—I _know_.”

“—someone just happened to plant some crucial evidence on your person, and now you're here.”

Oikawa nodded almost too cheerily. “That's the gist of it, yes. But I don't blame you if you don't believe my little tale of adventure. I told the exact same story to Kuroo, and he didn't buy a single word.”

You were silent for a few minutes, mulling over how you were going to respond to such an outlandish account on his part. You had nothing else to go by aside from the prince's word, but even though you were nothing more than a Yoshiwara whore, you could single out the ambition that glimmered in his hazel eyes. 

No man guilty of any crime would have such an honest look on his face.

“I believe you.”

The prince whipped his head back at you with a startled expression, like he hadn't expected for you to say that. You didn't blame him—neither did you anticipate that. Clearing your throat to distract yourself from the heat creeping up your neck, you continued talking. “I suppose the only thing that puzzles me is the fact that, out of all the places the killer could be conducting murder sprees, it just has to be in Yoshiwara. No one cares about a whore except for her fellow whores, so why...?”

“You found your answer right there,” Oikawa told you, rising back to his feet. “Though his purpose remains unknown, choosing victims who won't have anyone to mourn over their passing is quite smart.”

The truth in his words lanced through your heart, but you willed yourself not to lose face. “Yet the Bakufu seems determined to keep the matter unknown to those outside.”

He drew closer to the bars of his cell, hands clasped around the sturdy shafts of wood. “And that's another mystery that I'm more than willing to get to the bottom of,” Oikawa murmured conspiratorially. “Once good ole Kuroo finally lets me out, that is.”

“You seem awfully composed despite having been here for more than a week,” you observed. “I thought princes were more accustomed to the easy life.”

“Taiyou-sama, spare me from that useless prejudice,” he lamented, a pout resting on his lips. “Although I suppose the only reason I remain so calm is because I know he's going to do something about it.”

“He?”

Oikawa chuckled resting his forehead against the bars. “My advisor, Iwa-chan—short for Iwaizumi. He's gotten me out of a dozen conundrums in the past, so this shouldn't be a problem for him~”

The sound of his jeering laughter echoed in the narrow cavern, making your shoulders slump with disappointment. Were you an idiot for assuming that he was a regal prince that didn't like to rely on others? Nonetheless, you huffed out a determined sigh, plucking a piece of loose hair from your head as you offered it to him. Oikawa's mirth melted off his face at the sight of you, and he cocked his head, puzzled. 

“Tying one's hair to the smallest finger of a patron is considered a lovers' promise in Yoshiwara,” you explained, grabbing his right hand to tie that single strand of hair on Oikawa's pinky. “When you get out of here and your innocence is proven, I swear I'll help you with your cause on one condition.”

You half-expected him to make some offhand comment about the lovers' promise, but instead, Oikawa brought his hand closer to his face to examine your handiwork. “And what could that be?”

You met his eyes, that same nagging voice in your head chiding you for innate ability to put your faith in people in the most indiscriminate way possible. But your heart was already at ease with the choice you've made. 

“You're going to help me save my fellow courtesans by apprehending the real culprit.” 

The prince's lips tugged into another one of those pretty smiles of his, nodding slightly before tucking his hands back in his cell. Curiously, you peered inside as Oikawa seemingly retrieved something from the lapels of his haori. 

“Here,” he told you, handing you something that resembled...an amulet? “It's a warding charm from the Blue Castle's trusted shrine. It's the only thing Kuroo didn't take from me, since he believes that 'even criminals like me deserve divine intervention' or something like that.” 

“Then why're you giving it to me?” you pondered, accepting it with reluctance. 

Oikawa caught you through the bars, making you squeak in surprise as he squeezed your hand with reassurance. This time, the grin he spared you looked more sincere than the last ones he'd shown. 

“Take it as my own lovers' promise, Taiyou-sama.” When he loosened his grip, peeling away from you altogether, you couldn't help the disappointment that prickled in your chest. “You best be on your way if you don't want Kuroo to catch you loitering down here. Although, I'm sure Haiba-chan is going to cover for you if that happens.”

“Eh?!” The sound of Lev crooning behind you made you jump in your place, having completely forgotten that the samurai was there. ”Oikawa-san, Kuroo-san's going to make me commit seppuku if he finds out!”

“Then make sure he _doesn't_ find out.” The prince let out yet another easygoing laugh. “Go on, Taiyou-sama, I'll fill my end of the bargain, so you don't have to worry your pretty little head about it.”

Hesitation crossed your previously proud features as you made the motions to depart. You wanted to stay and ask him more about what he knew, but you couldn't move as freely in the Shinsengumi Compound. The best you could do was to seek out the answers someplace else as you quietly bid your time. Whatever means it took, you were going to protect the women who were just like you—having no place else to call home aside from the red light district itself.

Following the obscure instructions Lev had imparted, you carefully slid the alcove hiding the entrance to the dungeon back in place. You took a few steps back, marvelling in how they managed to conceal the doorway in plain sight. Without the help of the snowy-haired samurai, you never would've been able to figure out where to find Oikawa. 

The breath that left you in the next second staggered with tension, feeling your heart race violently in your chest. Oikawa's charm hung heavy in the folds of your kimono as you distantly wondered about what'll happen in the days to come. You were so zeroed in on your own thoughts that you hadn't noticed the entrance of the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Anything the matter? You look awfully psyched out,” Kuroo pointed out from where he stood out in the foyer, nearly scaring you out of your own skin. The commander of the Shinsengumi raised a suspicious eyebrow at your reaction, and you very well prayed that he'd let the culpable look on your face off the hook. You didn't know how to present yourself, but you couldn't read his expression. Was he wondering what you were doing in the meeting room?

Thankfully, he decided not to ask questions, gesturing for you to follow him instead.

“Y-You're back early,” was your pathetic attempt at a conversation. 

“Not much happening back there, since the lackeys seem to be laying low,” he sighed, carding his fingers through ebony hair. “Although Sawamura _did_ threaten to lop my arms off if I tried anything funny with you.”

The knowledge that one of your closest friends still doted on you despite this new living arrangement made a peal of endearment bubble in your chest. You wondered how they were holding up. Was the hole in the building fixed? Were Tanaka and Nishinoya intimidating patrons more than they should? Maybe Yachi had been promoted to a regular already. 

All those worrisome thoughts brewed in your mind so quickly that you hadn't noticed that you were standing right outside of Kuroo's bedchambers. 

“Lord Kuroo?” you called out even if he was right next to you. The samurai's mouth twitched like he'd intended to smile before holding up a bottle you hadn't noticed he was carrying. A breathless gasp escaped your lips when you recognized the handwriting on the flimsy label.

“One of your juniors told me home-brewed sake was your favorite,” he drawled lazily, sliding the door to his room. “I'd share this with my men, but we all know sake is best enjoyed by people who work their asses off for it.”

Your heart swelled in your rib cage, fluttering with so much appreciation for your little family that you began to feel guilty for having cozied up to the Shinsengumi as much as you had. They were still thinking of you even if you'd left them behind, but you told yourself you only did that for their sake as well.

“Are you implying your men don't work hard enough?” you teased. 

“I might be.” Kuroo shrugged nonchalantly. “Come on in. Those idiots won't come back until sundown anyway.” 

As he stepped aside to reveal a bedroom that didn't look any different than yours (which came as a surprise to you, because you'd thought his status came with a better private space), you felt the unease of the unfathomable future dissipate in the air. All your life, you'd lived in a place where pleasure and leisure came first before anything else. Who knew it would only take a week away from that life of debauchery to make you forget how to have a good time? You supposed humoring your host wouldn't do you harm—even if you _still_ hadn't quite gotten him figured out. 

“I expect you know how to entertain a woman such as myself.” 

The grin that jostled Kuroo's unkempt demeanor was wicked in all the right places. His amber eyes glinted with a kind of fascination you'd never seen him wear before, but you felt oddly relaxed despite his gaze burning into you.

“I'll make sure to blow your expectations out of the water, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a biiit shorter than my latest chapters, since I didn't want to bombard you guys with so much information all at once. Since a few terms were discussed here that are probably not familiar to all of you, lemme give you a quick run through:
> 
> \- In this era, Japan was governed mostly by the shogunate or the _Bakufu_ as I've already mentioned it in the previous chapters. (It just came to me that I hadn't explained what the Bakufu is in the past I'm so sorry :'C) In the most fundamental sense, they're mostly in charge of the country's military power. 
> 
> \- However, even if the Bakufu is the highest power in Japan back then, the presence of the royal family wasn't to be neglected. But even if certain individuals are still regarded as the emperor, the prince, etcetera, they mostly only serve as figureheads and hold no real power over the governance of their nation. 
> 
> \- Remember: the above explanation is just the exclusive lore for this fic. I'm not certain if this also applies to real life Japanese history, since I'm just mixing in some factual information with fictional details added here and there. 
> 
> That's pretty much it! Thank you for sticking by me and having enough patience to digest all this historical jargon I'm feeding you guys with. You can hit me up on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) or pitch in on my [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai) if you'd like!


	7. Equal Footing

The art of sharing an easy conversation over sake hadn't always come as natural as it did to you now. You'd failed to inherit the silver tongued elegance your mother had used to lull patrons into a false sense of endearment, and that was only one of the many drawbacks she'd abhorred you—her own _child_ —for. However, you were long past that. Time passes, scars heal, and you would inevitably learn how to enchant men with your own magic one way or another. 

But right now, you were convinced that you were the one being entranced by the man in front of you instead.

“And that's how we eventually got along.” 

You spared Kuroo a soft chuckle, tipping the ceramic cup he'd provided over your lips. There familiarity of Yachi's brew had a bite that certainly helped to ease your nerves and made you feel more comfortable in your seat. But then again, even if you didn't really know what to expect when Kuroo invited you for a drink in his quarters, him being a rather gracious host was definitely not it. 

“You go way back with Kai-san and Yaku-san, huh,” you remarked fondly, fingers tracing the rim of your cup. “He reminds me a little of someone back home. A friend who's been there for as long as I could remember.”

The quirk of Kuroo's lips told you he knew who you were talking about. “I see the resemblance, although I'm quite certain Saeko was a little less shrill. But who am I to say? I'd only been indulged with her company for a few hours.”

“Saeko _does_ come off strongly at times,” you agreed, catching yourself suppressing a smile.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if Kuroo frequented Yoshiwara more often than he let on. Lev had informed you that Shinsengumi officers needed to serve as guards in Nekoma for at least half a year if they wished to join the ranks, but him just waltzing into Karasuno to avail of the brothel's services was quite a bold move. Wasn't that the same day they were supposed to ask Ukai's help with their investigation, too?

“Lord Kuroo, if I may ask,” you began, unsure of how you were even going to go on about this, “are you perhaps a regular patron? Not necessarily at Karasuno...but in Yoshiwara altogether?” 

In retrospect, you didn't really have a formidable reason for imposing such a question. It was all to sate your curiosity. The image you had of Kuroo Tetsurou was made up of mismatched fragments, and you simply wished to know where to properly put them. But then again, you didn't really have the right to do so—even if he _did_ invite you into his quarters.

You'd always known your place in this world, yet...

Just before you could contemplate about backtracking, however, Kuroo's mouth flitted into a smile with a gentleness you never would've thought he could muster. 

“You could say that,” he chuckled, taking a few gulps from his cup. You watched the way his throat moved as the sake gushed into his body before he detached his lips with a content sigh. “Bokuto likes to tell me I'm an unintentional charmer, but I got no idea what he's talking about.” 

You, on the other hand, knew exactly what the Owl Commander had meant by that (which was already unusual on its own because, wasn't Bokuto the more oblivious of the two?)

Nodding minutely, your eyes fell to the tatami—not quite believing that Kuroo almost caught you emerging from the dungeons earlier. He had smoothed out the atmosphere with his own charm so well that you nearly forgot about the amulet tucked between the folds of your kimono. Perhaps it was the alcohol that knocked your reservations a few notches down, but you strangely felt at ease with him. 

Kuroo wasn't exactly the brute you'd perceived him to be in your first few days of acquaintance. The past week you'd spent living alongside him was proof enough of that, but you never really had the leisure to speak to him one-on-one like this. Although the commander of the Shinsengumi was considerably more carefree in the compound than he was on-the-job, you never would have thought that he could be even more easygoing—more so under the influence of Yachi's trusty sake, too.

“So, how are you taking your first taste of freedom so far, Taiyou-sama?” Kuroo wondered, pouring you another round. 

You murmured a quiet thanks, feeling the heat of intoxication starting to brew across your skin, but despite that, your brows puckered with confusion. Why did he suddenly deviate your conversation into something like that? 

“I could hardly call this freedom, Lord Kuroo,” you replied, taking a small sip. “I may not be shackled by my duties as an oiran now, but we both know once this all calms down, you'll put me back where I belong.”

His laughter was a throaty, guttural sound that prompted you to throw a glance his way. Instead of meeting your gaze, his amber eyes trained themselves on the red-orange sky outside, the warm tones of twilight swathed across his handsome face. It was only then that you'd permitted yourself to stare at him a little bit longer. Despite the unsightly manner he'd treated you the night you met him—you were _still_ jumpy around swords—there was no denying that Kuroo was a sight to behold. Wild, ebony hair that fringed across one side of his face. A rigid body that you might have stolen brief glimpses from (since he liked to wear his haori loose most of the time). And honey gold irises whose coldness you could have sworn had melted along with his menacing façade. You couldn't really blame yourself from staring.

When Kuroo's eyes flickered back on your mesmerized form, you startled a bit. You expected for him to slide in some sly comment about your shamelessness, but the severe look on his face didn't recede.

“Why do you speak of yourself as if you're an object?” 

There was a lapse in your conversation—one lengthy enough that Kuroo looked like he was about to retract his words, until you beat him to it. 

“I suppose I've been conditioned to think of myself as such.”

A frown settled on his face, telling you he wasn't pleased with that answer at all, but what else could he want aside from the truth? Though your mother hammered the facts in your head in the least stellar way possible, they were still facts. A woman would only become a whore if she had nothing else to cling to, and whores were often equated to be nothing more than the muck under a commoner's sandals. The only reason why Yoshiwara protected its courtesans with samurai was to protect its revenue; not because they thought of them as any more than what they were—that being toys for men with money to enjoy.

Even if Ukai would certainly be disappointed at you for thinking this way, even if those back at home had fooled you into thinking that _maybe_ you were worth more than what you'd been taught... Yes, that's right. No matter how far you tried to run from the truth, you'd always lead yourself back to it.

The Sun was an empty title. If anything, you were saddled with the burden of knowing that truth more so than others. Not even this temporary solace could make you forget that so easily. 

“Well, you're wrong.”

Kuroo's voice dropped into a thoughtful drawl. When you whirled to shoot him a puzzled stare, his face was already a hair's breadth away from yours—making you instinctively inch away from his smoldering gaze. The sun had already dipped into the horizon, letting the darkness of the night spread across the sky. In spite of that, Kuroo's eyes still seemed to glow in the waning light, capturing you in an unwilling trance. 

He lifted one hand to your face, the back of his fingers grazing your supple skin with a delicate caress. You could hardly breathe. What...what was he doing?

When his gaze drifted to your lips—eyes glossed over with an emotion you couldn't place—you weren't sure whose breath it was that hitched. Probably yours. ( _Definitely_ yours.) A thousand scenarios played in your head in that singular moment about how this might just pan out, but what Kuroo ended up doing was completely beyond your assumptions.

“Ow!” 

You flinched away from him, spilling some sake on your clothes from the abrupt jostle. With some moisture pooling in the corners of your eyes, you scowled at Kuroo as you rubbed the spot where he'd flicked your forehead. “W-What was that for?”

Kuroo beamed. “So you _can_ lose your composure every now and again? I was beginning to think they'd broken you back there.”

“I don't understand...”

The commander let slip another one of his sleazy chuckles, lifting his cup in your direction. “Sawamura mentioned that you'd always been reserved, but that's not gonna work here. You've been so quiet and polite all this time that it got on my nerves a little.”

You craned your head to the side. “Pardon?” 

“What I'm saying is,” Kuroo began with a sigh, taking the hand that held your cup with gentle fingers—pulling your arm up as if he'd like to make a toast, “you don't have to act so put together all the time. The guys around here? You can trust 'em just as much as those boys of yours in Karasuno. Believe it or not, I liked you better when you told me, _there are laws in Yoshiwara_.” 

Your nose scrunched up at his poor, high-pitched imitation of your voice. You did _not_ sound like that...right? 

“There we go,” he hollered as he bumped his cup with yours—the clink of ceramic ringing in your ears. ”You're more beautiful when you're glaring at me, y'know?” 

Even as Kuroo continued to down his drink without another thought, you were still taken aback by that little gesture he just made. The simple act of bumping drinks with another person was a show of camaraderie—to let them know you viewed them on equal footing. Your patrons had never once initiated a toast in any of your sessions, despite being _years_ into the business. Yet this man—the one who threatened your life in your first meeting; the same man who told you you're beautiful when you glared at him—just... _did_ that. 

“Oi, it's rude not to drink after making a toast,” Kuroo huffed, prompting you to finish your sake with trembling fingers. “You still good? We're going to have dinner with everyone else once they return...and I think they already have, actually.”

Kuroo turned his head in the direction of the window, and you noticed that the garden was lit up with the faint yellow glow of the lanterns outside. Now that he mentioned it, this was usually the time that Kai would light them. 

“Yeah,” you said as you attempted to rise to your feet, but Kuroo immediately saw the wobble in your posture—shooting up just in time to break your fall. 

You blinked owlishly at him, trying not to think about the way his strong arms were supporting your back. With a breathless simper, he helped steady you on your own feet, and you spared him some whispered words in gratitude. 

“So you're a lightweight,” he taunted.

“Do not speak of a Yoshiwara woman so lightly,” you huffed, taking his arm when he'd offered it regardless. A pleasant feeling stirred in your chest from the newfound comfort, but you knew better than to give it a name.

* * *

When you woke up the next day, Kuroo and a handful of others had already departed for today's tasks. You were used to having lots of time to yourself here in the compound, but after yesterday, you felt kind of down for being left alone. 

It was for that reason that you tried your hand at speaking to the unspeakable himself—Shinsengumi's tactician, Kozume Kenma.

“What do you want?” he asked somewhat harshly as he poked at his egg on rice. 

You folded your hands across the only occupied table in the mess hall, mustering up a tiny smile. “I just wanted to learn more about you guys since you're the Captain of the Intelligence Division, and all.”

Kenma's cheeks flushed pink at your flattery, but his hostile demeanor was yet to falter. “My position only means that I'm knowledgeable about things going on _outside_ the compound, not necessarily within. What even gave you the idea that—”

“Ah, so you _don't_ know anything about your comrades at all?” You pouted. ”Here I thought you were the most well-versed about everybody in the Shinsengumi's ranks, Kenma-san. What a shame...” Feigning disappointment, you got back to your feet, cleaning up after the utensils you used. But just before you could walk away, Kenma braced his palms on the wooden table, rattling the plates he placed on top. 

When you turned around to spare him a questioning look, he was already shooting you a deep-set frown.

“Meet me in the garden if you want to talk to me that badly,” he grumbled, but you'd take it as a win, nonetheless.

A half hour or-so later, you found yourself idling by the koi pond that was being tended to by the vice commander Kai. He'd been in the middle of putting some decorative rocks around the water when you made your entrance, and he perked up once he saw you approach.

“Good morning, Taiyou-sama,” he greeted with a lopsided smile, clapping off the dust from his hands. “Did you sleep well? I hope you didn't wake up with a hangover.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, remembering how...out of it you were at dinner last night. In your defense, Kuroo invited you for drinks _before_ having a decent meal. Back in Karasuno, Saeko would always whip up the heaviest of dinners before any of woman could meet their clients. That was to ensure they wouldn't get swayed too easily by the alcohol they were to consume. 

“Ah, yeah. I woke up fine, Kai,” you replied uneasily, leaning against the wooden rails of the small decorative bridge. “Are you the one who keeps this place in shape? I never would have thought that there would be a garden in the Shinsengumi compound...”

Kai let out a few airy laughs. “Well, it was a personal request I made to the commander. He didn't see any harm in it, so he let me do as I please. Besides, this here compound with over fifty men running around could afford some beautifying, don't you think?”

You didn't really think of it like _that_ , but looking around, you could see the diligence poured into the way he'd levelled the grass, kept the branches on the plum blossom trees orderly, and shaped the shrubs that grew by the walls. A fond smile crept its way to your lips. You learned new things about your housemates everyday, huh.

“Taiyou-sama.”

Whipping your head back, you saw Kenma emerge onto the bridge, hands shoved in either lapel of his haori. He had that signature apathy scrawled on his face, but still acknowledged Kai with a curt nod. The vice captain returned the gesture, lowering his head as he excused himself.

Once Kai was fully out of earshot, Kenma spoke again.

“What is it you want to know about Kuro?”

“Eh?” You turned to him, stunned. “I didn't just want to ask about him specifically—”

“Don't take me for an idiot. I'm not _him_.” Kenma rolled his eyes. “You're easier to predict than you think, and from what I can see, you're curious about Kuro. Now, just cut to the chase. What do you want to know?”

You gulped, not expecting to be singled out like that so quickly. Either way, you immediately realized the futility of denying it further. You remembered the way he'd spoken to Kuroo so harshly on your first night here, and let's just say that might have sparked a few questions in your head. The curiosity lingered for days as you watched their interactions from a distance. It seemed that they were closer than the rest, but Kuroo's enthusiasm remained unreciprocated. It only puzzled you even more when he didn't say a word about Kenma during your little session yesterday.

“Are you...close with Lord Kuroo?” you asked, not really knowing how to word it any other way. 

Kenma's face was unreadable as ever—even his reply was too monotonous for you to garner any real sentiment behind them. 

“He and I were orphans taken in by Nekomata-san,” he replied. “We trained under him for years until we were both old enough to become samurai. Later on, the Shinsengumi took us in, and we'd been here ever since.”

The way he compressed unfathomable years into a few sentences was hardly a satisfying answer, but you thought that it was very like Kenma to omit details. He was careful not to tell you about their affiliation with Nekoma despite the obviousness behind it, too. You nodded in earnest, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you didn't know what else you wanted to ask. Thankfully, the captain seemed to pick up on that fairly quickly.

“Kuro's always been protective of the people around him.” Kenma averted his gaze from you, training them instead on the koi that swam underfoot. The tone of his voice shifted into something a bit more...relenting, too. “Whether it came to his own men or others, he values the greater good above all else. But sometimes, he's so busy charging headfirst into doing the right thing that he doesn't notice himself burning up from his own resolve. It's my job to remind him to keep himself grounded to reality.”

You arched a brow at him, not really expecting Kenma to put in a somewhat good word for him. “What do you mean?” 

Kenma let out a poignant sigh, and you watched the way his gold eyes almost dulled with sadness. “He never really told me this, but Nekomata-san mentioned that his mother used to be a Yoshiwara courtesan, too. When Kuro was still young, a deranged patron murdered her. Ever since then, he swore to protect everyone his own sword. Did you know that the Yoshiwara case now was supposed to be the Bakufu's business alone?”

The mention of a client killing a courtesan sent a shiver across your spine. It hit too close for comfort, but you opted not to dwell on it too much. 

“No...I didn't,” you murmured, the implications of Kenma's words clicking almost immediately in your head. “Then, he's taking the case in his own hands because he feels obligated to do so?” 

The captain breathed out something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “That's the gist of it. I usually don't like interfering with his personal squabbles, but I'll be the one to ask you to understand him. He has a shitty attitude, but Kuro really does want to protect Yoshiwara, you included.” 

The thought colored your cheeks scarlet, and you had to physically look away in hopes that Kenma wouldn't notice. But despite the sincerity of his words, you felt as if he wanted to say more. 

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

“Um, if you think I'm capable?”

Kenma straightened himself out, a hand resting on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. You'd always thought it was odd that someone with his build was a samurai, but the raw desperation in his eyes told you enough.

He had something he wanted to protect.

“I've never seen Kuro cozy up to someone as quickly as he did with you,” he spoke, mouth twitching slightly. “I think I can trust you to keep him in check. I've gone over all the reports he's given to me and I can say that there's something...strange about this case. I'm afraid that if he digs too deep, he won't get out of this alive.”

With Kenma having shed a little more light on Kuroo's convoluted character, you realized that he was one of those people who would do everything to protect something once they'd committed themselves to it. The same kind that didn't think twice about exposing themselves to dangers they could only imagine. It would make sense why Kenma would want an extra person to reel Kuroo back once he wandered too far.

Wait a minute.

“Are you implying that you don't think Oikawa is the real culprit?” you asked, sounding far too hopeful than what was considered normal.

Kenma raised a curious brow at you, but answered nonetheless. “Yeah. I'm pretty sure Kuro just wants the comfort of having someone to blame, but who knows? Even I've never been able to figure him out.”

“But how does accusing a prince benefit him at all?” you whispered, frowning once a dozen more questions came into mind. 

“What was that?”

You startled from your own self-reflection, shaking your hands in front of you. “I-It's nothing, Kenma-san. You've told me more than enough.”

Although he looked unconvinced, Kenma ended your conversation with a subtle nod—brushing past you as he sauntered back into the main building. You listened to the small splashes that the fish in the pond occasionally made, eyeing Kenma's retreating form until he was out of sight. Exhaling a bated breath, you closed your eyes as you pictured a pair of warm, amber eyes in your mind's eye. 

“Where could you be now?” you muttered, the gravity of Kenma's favor beginning to weigh on your shoulders. 

When you made your way back, your attention was stolen by the commotion that seemed to be taking place in the courtyard. Curious, you snuck a peak from the doors, wondering what might be going on.

“Lord Bokuto, I told you the commander isn't here!” Yaku reasoned, throwing a bunch of weird gestures at the warlord. “Come back again tomorrow or something.”

“And I _said_ , I'm not here for Kuroo,” Bokuto sulked, almost pouting. ”I'm here to see...oh! Hey there, Taiyou-sama!”

You squeaked, hiding behind the door frame out of surprise. The uproar only escalated once you made yourself scarce, and briefly you wondered if you shouldn't have reacted like that. Although another pressing matter was:

What the hell could the Owl Commander possibly want from you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this update took way longer than I hoped to post it. I'm finally cleared with my requirements for freshman year, and ta-da! I'm free. Nothing much to note about this—just that my love for Kuroo burns with the fire of a thousand suns ehehe. 
> 
> Anywho, thank you so much for leaving such lovely comments on this! See you next update <3


	8. The King

“Again?!”

Ukai’s mouth twitched into a smile as he gathered the rest of the pieces left on the board. “I did not lose to my grandfather for _years_ just to let you have an easy win, Taiyou-sama.”

You puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms over your chest, watching as Ukai set up the shogi board for another round. Although you were still fueled by the spirit of competitiveness to take him on one more time, the psychological warfare he’d been waging against you weathered down your determination. How long had the two of you been playing in his office anyway?

“I don’t understand why you’re teaching me this,” you grumbled. “I bet Mother has never even _seen_ a shogi piece before.”

“Didn’t you say you wished for Karasuno’s oirans to offer a broader range of entertainment?” Ukai chuckled, lacing his fingers together before resting his chin atop. “Though I don’t mean to boast, Karasuno is a cut above the rest. We can afford to humor our patrons with a game of shogi before...that.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Owner of the most sought-out brothel in Yoshiwara and all, yet you still can’t say _copulation_ with a straight face.”

Ukai offered you a sleazy grin, but you didn’t miss the way his cheeks warmed from where he sat across from you. He beheld the freshly assembled board using a few odd hand gestures before saying, “Care to settle our disputes through another round, Taiyou-sama?”

A groan fell from your lips, but you relented to his offer nonetheless—pushing your first pawn forward without much thought. 

“Do your worst.”

* * *

The last two weeks were more eventful than you could ever hope to expect. If you were to tick every box in your checklist of ‘Things You Never Could’ve Fathomed Would Happen’, you’d probably be laughing at how ridiculous it would look like. Three lords intruding on your session? Check. Nearly getting killed by an unidentified stranger? Check. Being able to go out of Yoshiwara for the first time, only to be held captive? Check!

Of course, the strange domino effect of oddities only persisted from there, because _hey_ —not everyone could be invited into a _shogi match_ with Bokuto Koutarou, right?

“Whoa, you’re pretty good at this!”

The Owl’s golden eyes sparkled as he watched you capture his rook inside a promotion zone, placing it on your side of the board to control. You felt a sense of pride swell in your chest at his praise. Admittedly, you couldn’t thank the gods enough that Ukai hammered the basics into your head until you finally defeated him.

You were so psyched in on the game that it was hard to believe that Bokuto merely waltzed into the compound like he owned the place an hour earlier. Despite his initial adamance, Yaku eventually relented and granted the Owl Commander entry since he was affiliated to the Shinsengumi, anyway. After cornering you in the meeting hall, where you were foolish enough to think you could retreat back into the dungeons, Bokuto gave you a proposition.

“Aren’t you bored, Taiyou-sama? I know a good game we can play to kill the time!”

And now here you were, sitting right across from him on a small table situated in one of the gathering halls. 

“We oirans don’t just sit around like ducks, Lord Bokuto,” you giggled, but your smile fell when you realized the lance you’d used to capture his rook was in a tight spot. 

So far, Bokuto hadn’t been making any game-changing plays. Contrary to your expectations he stuck with the safe choices—patiently taking out your pawns one by one instead of swooping in to target your higher valued pieces. In hindsight, you never even thought that the most carefree of the lords in charge of the Yoshiwara case even _knew_ how to set up a shogi board. You were definitely not trying to discredit him but Bokuto seemed a bit too...whimsical to care about a mind game such as this one.

“Eh? That’s amazing. I didn’t know you were taught this in Yoshiwara,” Bokuto marvelled, nodding his head in earnest as he stroked his chin to contemplate his next move. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Taiyou-sama, but I’m not called the Ace for nothing!” 

You wanted to ask him what he’d meant by that, but before you could even open your mouth, Bokuto moved his bishop to knock aside your lance—successfully capturing the piece and making it his own. A scowl found its way to your face, but you were quick to regain your composure. It was a rookie mistake on your part. Even a first timer could take advantage of that. 

“This game was pretty hard for me to learn at first. I don’t really like things that need a lot of thinking,” he lamented, pouting in a manner that was a bit unbecoming of a samurai. “But my friend Akaashi taught it to me in a way that was easier to understand. Next thing I knew, I challenged people in the palace left and right!”

It was quite easy to imagine the commander in front of you casually challenging his fellow retainers to a quick shogi match. He certainly seemed like the type to show off a skill he’d acquired, but given that you’d initially loathed the game at first, too, how _Bokuto_ learned to love it piqued your curiosity. You didn’t know much about the man, but everyone’s stories were worth knowing. When you asked if he could spare the tale, he was more than happy to oblige.

“Well, the first thing they teach you at any dojo is this,” he began, clearing his throat for added effect, “ _A samurai needs no reason to act. You pull that sword out when you have something to protect._ Or at least, that’s how I remembered my teacher saying it.

“That’s one of the reasons I chose to step up as one of the shogun’s commanders. To protect as many people as I can.” 

There was a particular ring to his words that told you of the purity of his intentions. Unlike most of the nobles you’d had the pleasure to meet, Bokuto harbored a sincere sentiment that you’d only seen on the samurai of Karasuno, and now even those from Nekoma. Your lips tugged into an absentminded smile, pleased to know that there were still people who haven’t been corrupted by the power they wielded.

Bokuto continued, oblivious to your admiration. “Akaashi told me that I should imagine the pieces as real people. So I thought of the gold general as Ushijima, while Kuroo could be a silver general. Ahh, it hardly matters, though, since we all have the same goal anyway: to protect the king.”

You had no idea who this Akaashi was, but what would seem like a childish comparison to others actually made sense to you. “Would that make you a golden general, too, Lord Bokuto?”

You expected him to nod gleefully at your question because with that whole spiel he’d just imparted, it was normal to strive for the highest rank possible. But instead, the grin on his face receded into a mere lopsided twitch of his lip. Bokuto’s hand moved towards the sheathed sword he’d kept by his side, broad fingers tracing the scabbard. You didn’t notice it at first, but you saw two bells tied around the hilt with a braided cord. Huh. You’d never seen other samurai accessorize their swords like that.

“No, I think I’m more of a...bishop,” he mumbled, raising the hand he’d used to toy with his sword back on the table. Bokuto plucked the bishop piece off the board, examining it with intent. 

Brows pinching with confusion, you decided against asking the reason behind his answer—feeling that this was as far as your curiosities should go. Now that you thought about it, though, the bishop was the one that had the most mobility out of all the pieces. Perhaps the Owl Commander thought he could protect others better if he could move around freely? 

When your eyes drifted to the piece that sat in the middle of your side of the board, however, another inquiry popped into your mind. 

“Who’s the king, then?” you wondered, one finger tracing the kanji written on the most important piece in shogi. 

Bokuto hummed in acknowledgement, eyeing the corner of the ceiling. “Uh, Akaashi said that should be the shogun but I don’t think it has to be that way all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

He placed his bishop back, those eyes of his glinting in the daylight. 

“The king can be anyone we have to protect,” he said, mouth curling into a warm smile. “Right now, _you’re_ our king, Taiyou-sama.”

Your friendly match resumed after that segue, but you had to admit, Bokuto’s bold word choice had you fumbling with your pieces in all the wrong ways. What’s more was that your prior indifference when he’d chipped away at your first line of defense played a role in your demise, too. (The man captured all your pawns!) With his beloved bishop dealing the finishing blow, your king was captured as well—crowning Bokuto the victor. 

“I haven’t played a fun match in a while,” he hollered, putting the pieces back in the wooden box Yaku had given to him earlier. “When everything goes back to normal, I might drop by Karasuno just to challenge you!”

You laughed uneasily. “Ah, how about you _don’t_ do that, Lord Bokuto?”

“Aww! But think about how—”

His persuasion was interrupted by the sound of the room’s sliding doors slamming aside, startling you in your seat. When you whirled around to see who it was, the sight of a sweat-stricken Kuroo greeted you. Although you couldn’t afford to feel relieved that he somehow made it back here in one piece because his eyes were drowning with panic. 

“Bokuto…” He panted, shoulders squared. “Do you have a horse with you?” 

You flicked your gaze back to Bokuto, who was blinking up owlishly at him. “Yes, she’s outside. Why?”

“Get up. I have to go back to Yoshiwara and I need you with me. I already contacted Ushijima, too.”

Just before Kuroo could turn on his heel to run back outside, you called his name. 

“Did something happen?” you asked (yet feared for his answer).

The commander of the Shinsengumi turned around slowly, grief flashing through his amber eyes. “Someone was attacked. One of ours.”

His response had Bokuto grabbing his sword as he shot up to his feet, nearly toppling over the table in front of him. “The accomplices attacked _Nekoma_?” 

“It was Akane,” Kuroo sighed, raking his fingers through his hair before glaring up at the ceiling. “Happened under my watch, too. She said she was just going to buy something outside, but when she took too long to come back, I asked Tora to look for her… Found her bleeding out in one of the hidden back streets.”

“How are you sure it’s the same person who did it?” Your face scrunched up with apprehension. Were the culprits so confident that they’d strike even at broad daylight?

“It doesn’t matter,” he barked. “Whatever crime happens in Yoshiwara is more or less tied to the murderer now. Bokuto’s going to come along and _you’re_ staying here.”

You scoffed. “You expect me to listen after telling me that?”

Kuroo simpered, his eyes assuming that familiar coldness you hoped to never see again. “What are you going to do? _Beg_ the murderer to stop harming courtesans? Well, I hate to break it to you, princess—the world isn’t as kind as you think it is.” 

“Are you taking me for a _fool_?” you bit back as you rose to your feet, ignoring the stab of hurt that lingered in your chest. “I just want to help with—”

“Taiyou-sama,” said Bokuto, clamping one hand around your shoulder. “Now, now. Kuroo just wants to make sure you’re safe. Isn’t that right?” 

The ebony-haired commander merely averted his gaze. “Think what you want.”

Bokuto chuckled, giving your shoulder a tentative squeeze. “I don’t really know what’s going on yet, but at least Akane’s alive. That’s better than finding her like every single woman we’d seen so far.”

His voice managed to quell the anger that threatened to boil over inside you—yet another unexpected skill that Bokuto had up his repertoire. You’d thought he was someone who _caused_ trouble, not someone who _managed_ it. 

Not half an hour later, you were left idling by the gardens again—eyeing the koi in blurs of white and orange rippling across the pond. Briefly, you wondered what they’d feel if they were forcibly taken out of the water. You’d been so comfortable with your life in the compound that hearing developments about Yoshiwara made _you_ feel like a fish flailing in the air. Yet you couldn’t do a single thing about it. 

You were about to resign yourself to another day of being unable to help your people until the sight of a tall, silver-haired samurai caught your attention.

“Hey.”

Lev whipped around with a stick of what you were sure was dango poking out of his mouth. His green eyes widened when he’d realized it was you.

“Thaiyou-shama!” he floundered, swallowing his food in one go. “Anything the matter?”

You gulped, unsure if your plan was even going to work. Sure, Lev was your main accomplice in the rules you broke under Kuroo’s nose, but this was going to be too tall an order. It could even get him banished if someone caught wind of it. 

But still. Even if Bokuto called you their king, you couldn’t sit around and be protected forever.

“Can you...help me sneak back to Yoshiwara?” you whispered.

Lev met your request with silence, making you shift uneasily from where you stood. His towering frame didn’t cater to your peace of mind either, but you supposed he had all the right to be shocked with what you were asking of him. Just when you were about to get swallowed up by your own uncertainty, the samurai spared you an easygoing laugh.

“You really want to help that much, huh?” he observed, smiling at you fondly before he gestured for you to follow him. 

A few minutes later, he led you to the courtyard, where you noticed not a single samurai aside from Lev hung around. Not even Yaku was keeping watch. That was odd, but you opted not to question it when your companion led you to one of the rooms they used to store their outdoor sandals. 

“Wait out here for a moment.” After imparting the words, Lev disappeared behind the sliding door and you could hear him fumbling with the cabinets you briefly glimpsed at. When he reemerged, he was holding a red and white parasol in his hands. The idea crossed your mind only fleetingly, but you could have sworn you’d seen the familiar patterns on it before. 

“Yoshiwara isn’t too far from here,” he informed, handing you the umbrella. “It’s just right past the Kabuki district, which isn’t a big town anyway. I’d escort you, myself, but someone has to cover for you.”

With the streets of Yoshiwara being the only thing you’d ever known, the idea of venturing outside all by yourself spooked you. But you supposed that was the reason why Lev gave you this umbrella in the first place—to somehow conceal you from the eyes of strangers. For someone Yaku often dubbed as an airhead, this was awfully thoughtful of him. 

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head in gratitude.

As Lev saw you out of the gates, he’d repeated the directions with his hands cupped over his mouth. “Just follow that path until you see the gates of Yoshiwara! Don’t stray away!”

Fearing someone might overhear him, you nodded briskly before lifting the parasol overhead, spreading it to give you some reprieve from the sun. 

The road before you was relatively remote, but after a good fifteen minutes into your journey on-foot, you began to see some houses and shops lining the road. You’d heard a lot of things about Yoshiwara’s neighboring district, but you never had the chance to see it for yourself until now. A few passers-by cast you curious glances, but they thankfully didn’t stare too long—possibly dismissing you as just another passing face.

Still. Your heart was racing, mind running with all sorts of things that could go wrong with this impulsive decision you’d made. What if one of your clients recognized you? Would he take advantage of your cluelessness and kidnap you? Worse...what if _Kuroo_ saw you? You’d be sure that there’d be hell to pay if he found you out in the open when they were working so hard to protect you, too.

Distracted by the guilt that festered in your chest, your eyes caught sight of a shop where you saw several people munching on the rice balls the owner had on display. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you had to skip lunch to entertain Bokuto earlier. Right when you had no money to your name...

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ out here?” 

With a startled yelp, you frantically turned to face the person who you were sure was speaking to you. But when your gaze landed on the man’s statuesque form, you couldn’t help but blurt out:

“Osamu-san?” 

He blinked at you curiously with eyes that glinted like the sun. Wait a minute. Weren’t Osamu’s eyes...silver?

“So ya met my brother already, huh. Shame. I’d wanted to get to ya first, too,” he sighed, but a smirk played on his lips the next second. “You’ve got the wrong man. The name's Miya Atsumu.”

Miya...? No wonder they looked alike—they were twins! Although, despite the relief of having encountered a somewhat familiar face, your instincts told you to be wary. Something about the sharp edge of his smile and the way his molten gold eyes raked over your form was familiar; and not the good kind. 

Not wanting to give away your unease, you spared him a curt bow. “It’s nice meeting you, Atsumu-san, but I should be making haste—”

“Aren’t ya hungry or somethin’?” he interrupted, casting a sidelong glance at the onigiri shop. “I’m sure as hell that ‘Samu makes better onigiri, but if a lady needs to eat, I’d happily treat her to a quick fix.”

“Y-You don’t have to do that.”

Atsumu scratched his head. “Please, I insist. Besides, I heard ya dropped by the shop a few weeks ago. Hm. Wait a moment.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “What’re you doin’ outside Yoshiwara? Ain’t there a strict rule that—”

“I _really_ need to go,” you reasoned, tightening your grip around the parasol’s handle as you attempted to brush past him, but jolted when Atsumu forcibly grabbed your wrist—his grip inhumanly tight. 

“Oi, I don’t appreciate it when people, ‘specially _women_ , are bein’ rude ta me,” he spoke slowly, mouth stretched into something that resembled a snarl. “It’s common courtesy to answer when someone’s askin’ a question.”

You wanted to yell. To cause a scene. Because there was something wrong about the way his eyes nearly flashed yellow with rage. Was your mind playing tricks on you? No. You _definitely_ saw that happen. But despite the adrenaline that screamed for you to get away, you could only remain petrified under his honey eyed stare.

However, your saving grace came in the form of the sound of hooves galloping across the eroded path. You managed the willpower to turn to whoever was riding a horse in this narrow district, and you were flooded with an inexplicable relief when you caught Ushijima’s viridian eyes.

“Is anything the matter here?” The Eagle Commander’s voice was assertive as he stared Atsumu down with a stern frown, slowing his horse to a trot until he stopped in front of the both of you.

Atsumu released you without a second thought, rolling his eyes before scoffing at the shogun’s retainer. “Nothin’ you should concern yourself with,” he insisted before walking past him without so much as a bow. 

The strange man eventually melted into the bustling crowd of the Kabuki district, but Ushijima didn’t seem to care about Atsumu enough to apprehend him for his behavior—his attention completely drawn to you. 

“Are you headed to Yoshiwara?” he asked, and you wondered why he wasn’t questioning your obvious absence from the Shinsengumi compound. But instead of dwelling on your infraction, you simply nodded in reply.

To your surprise, Ushijima dismounted his steed, patting its rich brown coat as he moved around it. Once he was directly in front of you, you had to tilt your head a little just to look at his face. God, he was huge.

“Let’s go then,” he said, holding out two hands. 

You stared at him in nonplus for a few moments until you realized he was offering to help you up onto his horse. Gulping down your embarrassment, you closed the parasol Lev had given to you and nodded again. (He was doing an awfully great job at robbing you of coherent speech.) Ushijima held you by the waist without another thought, and you were so distracted by how his palms fit in the curves of your body that you nearly tethered out of balance when he lifted you onto the horse’s back. It whinnied at the sudden jostle, and you it was as if you'd witnessed a miracle as Ushijima cracked a small smile.

“Tempest isn’t very fond of new people, but he’s more cordial than most horses,” he explained, hoisting himself behind you as you placed your parasol on your lap. 

The commander's broad chest felt incredibly solid behind your back, quelling whatever unease had rooted itself into your body. You let out a shuddering sigh, too distracted by the heat permeating from his clothes to humor his little remark about horse etiquette. Tempest seemed to notice your inner turmoil, though—letting out a noise that sounded like a sneer. 

As the commander snapped the reins, his horse galloped into motion. Despite that, Ushijima still minded your balance by bracing his strong thighs behind yours. 

Oh, dear god. 

_Lev said the trip from the Kabuki district to Yoshiwara was short_ , you reassured yourself somewhat hesitantly. _You can manage_ without _melting like putty in between this man's legs...right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never played shogi in my life, but I opted to omit the part where they toss pawns to determine who makes the first move. I'm betting that not a lot of people are familiar enough with the mechanics to mind that anyway. 
> 
> Well, as usual, I'm on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) and [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai) <3


	9. A Right to Live

True to his namesake, Tempest blurred past the Kabuki district faster than any of Ukai’s horses. The next thing you knew, the looming gates of Yoshiwara rose high in the short distance, instilling you with a sense of homeliness that you hadn’t felt for weeks. Some of the locals living outside cast your little duo a few inquisitive stares—eyes lighting up with recognition that quickly morphed into confusion once they realized that _you_ were riding on horseback with Ushijima Wakatoshi. The commander, however, either didn’t mind the attention or was completely oblivious. 

Gripping the edge of Tempest’s saddle, you snuck a glance back at him in the most discreet manner you could manage. His face didn’t betray any semblance of discomposure, eyes trained straight ahead like a soldier heading into battle. You swallowed the lump in your throat, cheeks burning from your little attempt at staring before keeping your gaze forward as well. 

Tempest’s trots came to a halt as Ushijima patiently waited for the guards stationed to open the gates for him. You were aware of the rotations between samurai from various brothels, in which they took turns guarding the gates of the red light district. Karasuno’s shift always landed on the last day of the week, but today, it seemed like the Nohebi House was in charge of that task.

The familiar mop of viridian hair sitting atop a certain Daishou Suguru’s head attracted your gaze to him as he quickly issued a command for his subordinate to push the wooden gates open. In the rare instances you’d seen him in the past, he would always be sporting a wry smirk as he escorted Nohebi’s most popular oiran, Mika, around town. But now, the samurai’s face was blanketed with a somber look that you never would have pictured him wearing. You weren’t one to believe in hearsay, but maybe those rumors about him being more smitten with Mika than they let on were true. And now that she was pronounced dead…

“Oi.”

Your first instinct was to flick your head his way because Daishou couldn’t possibly address Ushijima, a _warlord_ , like that right? But to your surprise, his slanted eyes were fixed on the man behind you, brows knit together with an accusatory air. This time, Ushijima paid attention, matching the intensity of Daishou’s gaze when their eyes met. 

“You’ve been investigating this for weeks now,” the samurai spoke lowly. “Don’t tell me you _still_ haven’t got an inkling about who’s doing all this in our town?” 

“The Bakufu does not owe you any information,” was Ushijima’s prompt reply. “The truth will come to light once the shogun orders it to be.” 

When the gates were finally opened, Ushijima lightly encouraged Tempest to move along with a few pats on his long neck. You could feel Daishou’s eyes searing into the both of you as you traversed further into the empty streets, and for some reason, you thought he had all the right to do so. 

The heat of Ushijima’s broad chest was a flustering comfort to you not a few minutes earlier, but the way he replied to Daishou with such a cold tone made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. How could he just dismiss the concerns of the citizens? Retainers were mandated to uphold their loyalty to the shogun above all else, but _that_...was something else. 

Something you didn’t want to bear witness to again. 

* * *

Once the two of you made your arrival at Nekoma, you, of course, were greeted by the more-than-furious Commander of the Shinsengumi, himself. 

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo hissed as Ushijima kindly helped you down his horse. “Do you know that your mere presence here is grounds for me to commit seppuku?!”

Still not forgiving him for earlier, you simpered once you found your footing again. “Good riddance, then.”

To his side, Bokuto howled with laughter, voice seemingly out of place in the eerie silence in the streets. “Taiyou-sama is as feisty as ever, isn’t she, Alisa?”

Your ears perked up at the name, and in the next moment, you realized that there was a third person present in their conversation. Like all brothels, Nekoma also had its own star—one that assumed the form of a beauty ripped straight from a fairy tale. During the vacancy for the title of Taiyou, Nekoma’s Alisa was certainly one of the tightest contenders. With luscious hair hewn from starlight and eyes that took you to the depths of the ocean, she could easily make men—commoner and noble alike—fall to their knees. 

“The rumors say she’s a bit shy, but I suppose that isn’t so,” Alisa agreed, hiding her chuckles behind a paper fan before lowering it to her side. “It’s nice to see you again, Taiyou-sama. That’s a lovely parasol you have there.”

You startled at the mention of the umbrella in your hand; so distracted by her allure that you forgot it was even on your person. But as you examined the swirling patterns that decorated the surface, you realized that Alisa’s fan had the same designs. 

“This is yours,” you muttered, remembering one of her parades from a few months earlier. _That_ was where you saw it before! “You know _Lev_?” 

The oiran laughed once again, smiling rather fondly. “Of course. He’s my younger brother, after all.”

Now that she’d laid that on the table, you realized how silly it was that you couldn’t put two and two together. You knew Lev looked a little like someone you knew, but finding out that it was Alisa of all people made you wonder how it didn’t occur to you earlier. Light hair, sea green eyes, whimsical personality—it all made sense!

“Oh? So it’s Lev that helped you escape, huh.” Kuroo chuckled darkly, fingers drumming on the hilt of his sword. 

“Kuroo-san, if you lay even a finger on my brother, I’ll personally tell Lord Kita about your inability to keep Taiyou-sama safe in the compound,” Alisa threatened, her warm eyes turning rigid with offense.

Ushijima, who had been in the middle of patting down Tempest’s mane, finally decided to contribute to the discussion—whipping his head in Alisa’s direction as he asked, “Lord Kita is here?”

“Yes, and I’ve been expecting you, Wakatoshi.”

Emerging from the doors of Nekoma was a man donning a sleek black kimono with a red haori draped across his shoulders. Growing up, you’d seen him drop by Karasuno for more times than you could count, but with each visit he made over the years, there was always something that nagged you about him. He was handsome enough that other oirans hankered for his affections, but he only had eyes for your mother—a time in your life that felt like eternities ago. Despite that, the shogun’s son and heir, Kita Shinsuke, still looked as if he’d never aged a day. 

(And no one was going to start questioning him about it, either.)

Two men tailed after him with katanas by their sides—his guardian samurai, perhaps? One had his dark brown hair parted in the middle, the sleazy look in his narrow eyes telling you he’d probably rather be asleep than be here. In contrast to his companion, the other one held a more regal air to his person. His dark complexion certainly made him stand out, but despite looking like a foreigner altogether, you picked up on his fealty to the Bakufu just from the way he stood behind Kita alone. 

“I see you’ve brought Taiyou-sama along just as I’ve ordered,” Kita commented, his almond eyes darting to you swiftly. You kept yourself from startling at the way he addressed you. That was right. He wasn’t talking about your mother; he was talking about _you_. 

But, wait a minute… Did he say he _ordered_ Ushijima to come get you? 

Kuroo’s gaze darted between his fellow commander and Kita, confusion dancing around his face. “But the shogun said—”

“No need to fret, Tetsurou,” Kita interjected, mouth twitching into something that looked like a smile. “I already secured my father’s permission. He agreed that keeping Taiyou-sama out of Yoshiwara would only divide your attention between solving this mystery and minding her well-being. I’m simply making matters easier for you.”

The sight of Kuroo with conflict written all over his face would have amused you had this occurred in another situation, but you were too surprised with the news to ridicule him for it.

“Does that mean she’s going back to Karasuno, Lord Kita?” Bokuto wondered, head cocked to the side.

“That is a matter I’d like to discuss with the three of you,” Kita decided before turning to Alisa. “Would you do the honors of making Taiyou-sama comfortable, Alisa? This might take a while.” 

The oiran nodded obediently, one hand going to the small of your back as she ushered you to the entrance. You cast one last stare at the men gathered outside, but only Bokuto decided to offer you a reassuring smile. That, at least, was enough to ease your frazzled nerves—even if only a little. 

“Your mind must be racing all over the place,” Alisa remarked as she slipped her sandals off by the entrance, prompting you to do the same. “The town has been in high tensions since this morning. I’m sure Kuroo-san already filled you in on what happened?”

You blinked up at her, momentarily stunted into cluelessness until the dread that weighed your gut down earlier flooded your senses once more. Though the supposed killer had attacked one of Nekoma’s oirans, the girl was fortunate enough to survive. A prick of resentment found home in your heart for letting it slip your mind for even a moment as you handed Alisa her parasol back.

“Yes,” you replied somewhat meekly. “Is...is she okay?”

“We have some girls trained with managing even the worst injuries, and Akane is resting in her room,” Alisa offered, fingers tightening around the accessory. From the tautness in her elegant posture, you knew that she was treading over the matter on thin ice. “I’ll brew us some tea, okay?” 

You waited for her to return in a room that looks a bit like Ukai’s office back home. A low desk was situated in the far end of the room, facing a wider table where you presumed Nekomata (or whoever was in charge) would offer food and drink to potential clients. You were knelt in front of said table with your back facing the door—toying with a certain amulet in your hands.

Though the men back at the Shinsengumi compound would never attempt to frisk you nor your belongings, you still felt the need to keep the charm the prince had given in your clothes at all times. It was partly for your mutual safety, since Oikawa was still a suspect, and it could jeopardize not only your well-being, but also his chances of getting out if anyone found out about your meeting. However, the shrine amulet also served as a physical reminder of the oath you swore to each other. 

You were both going to protect what was important to you. 

“Alisa-san?”

The sound of another voice made you reflexively slip the amulet back in the sleeves of your kimono. You turned around to face whoever emerged from the door, only for your lips to part in a muted gasp. 

“Take...tora?” you guessed, eyeing the newcomer with curious eyes. You’d gotten glimpses of the man with the strangest hairstyle you’ve seen on a samurai around the Shinsengumi compound a couple of times, but not frequently enough to remember his name clearly. 

Taketora looked equally surprised, eyes bugged like he was seeing a mirage. “Taiyou-sama? What are you… Where’s Alisa-san?” 

Just as you were about to answer, the woman in question emerged from the hallway as well—in her hands, a tray with a ceramic tea set sitting on top. Alisa eyed the both of you with knowing curiosity, sliding the door with her foot to welcome Taketora further inside. 

“Good. We’re all here,” Alisa announced, shutting the door behind her as Taketora knelt across from you. “Tora, there’s something you want to tell Taiyou-sama, isn’t there?”

Brows pinched together, you cast the samurai an inquisitive glance. “What is it?” 

Taketora visibly fidgeted under your scrutiny as Alisa poured the three of you some tea. For someone that reminded you so much of Tanaka, he certainly seemed more docile than Saeko’s brother. 

“My younger sister, Akane…” he began, and you perked up at the name Kuroo had mentioned earlier. “I don’t think she was attacked by a human.”

So the victim was his sister. You briefly wondered if his constant absence from the compound meant he’d spent most of his time here in Yoshiwara, keeping an eye out for Akane, but you reeled yourself back into the topic at hand. 

“You mean, like an animal?” you asked. 

Taketora shook his head. “No. I—well, I _think_ I saw something that looked like...like a fox when I found Akane, but it was too quick. I couldn’t see it clearly and by the time I came closer to her, it was gone.” 

“Are you saying it...disappeared out of thin air?” The frown you sported only deepened, not quite believing his story but also not having the heart to dismiss his concerns. “Maybe it was just a stray dog that was attracted by the scent of—of…” Oh, gods. How do you even uphold this conversation without sounding too grotesque? Instead, you let the implications of your question hang in the air as you met Taketora’s gaze directly. “Have you told Lord Kuroo any of this?”

“I...haven’t.” 

Alright. It would make sense. Even _you_ couldn’t wrap your head around his outlandish story—what more his stubborn commander? You let his words sink for a minute, taking your first sip at Alisa’s brew, which admittedly tasted better than any of the drinks the men from the Shinsengumi had offered you; that was a Yoshiwara courtesan for you. But despite the momentary ease that the tea had given, your face was still twisted with disbelief. 

Earlier reports said the culprit wore a kitsune _mask_ , not that he was a fox, himself. Was this really the doing of the same individual? Were they using this attack on Nekoma to throw the Bakufu off track? 

“You look a bit conflicted, aren’t you?” Alisa remarked, chuckling softly as her slender fingers gripped her cup. “Tora came to me and said the same story, but I believed him on the spot. Do you want to know why, Taiyou-sama? Do you want to know what _I_ think did this to our Akane?” 

The oiran’s voice was strangely calm, as if she was certain of what she believed. Her glittering sea green eyes didn’t let you offer much resistance either, as if they were entrancing you into saying:

“Yes.”

Alisa’s mouth twitched into a kind smile before drinking from her own cup. When she set it back down on the table, she promptly gave you her answer.

“Yokai,” she said, lashes fluttering as she met your gaze. “Something as evasive as a yokai is the only creature capable of darting around under the Bakufu’s noses like this.”

You frowned. “Alisa-san, if this is a joke, I don’t think it’s the time—”

“Lyovochka and I come from a land where the spirits of nature are highly regarded,” the oiran continued, unbothered by your discomfort. “If you are good to the land you live on, you will be rewarded, but if you are cruel, you are doomed for a tenfold punishment. It’s a simple saying we’ve been taught to live by since we were children, and I’m certain there would be a similar adage even here in Edo, yes?”

You’d heard tales about vengeful spirits and mythical creatures being told to children as a means for parents to make them behave. It was a common idea that instilling fear could make anyone easier to control. But at the end of the day, everyone would grow up to realize that things like ghosts and yokai were only fabrications of the human mind. Creatures of fantasy shouldn’t even be considered in such a dire situation like this. 

But the severe looks on both Alisa and Taketora’s faces made you consider it ever-so slightly—flashes of golden eyes and razor sharp teeth disappearing into a wall of smoke still vivid in your head. 

“Okay,” you began, heaving a shaky breath as you stared at the reflection that stared back at you from your drink. “Let’s say that the culprit _is_ a yokai… Why would he do this? Have all those women done something more terrible than the people who subjected us to this fate? You and I both know that every whore in Yoshiwara simply wants to live—even if it meant scuttling about in the lowest depths of society.” 

You didn’t mean to come off as harshly as you did, but something about the saying Alisa had imparted rubbed you the wrong way. It implied that the women that were hurt and died both were being punished for...what? Not being good? As if the nobles in Edo didn’t have their heavier share of sins. 

“That’s what we would like to know, as well, Taiyou-sama,” Alisa murmured, in a voice that was much more understanding than you’d expected. 

“Why?” you asked softly, fingers almost trembling. “Why would you tell me all this? Why not take all this information straight to Lord Kuroo and the rest?” 

“Because,” Taketora started, swallowing thickly, “you aren’t bound by honor nor obligation to see this mess through until the end.”

Alisa nodded swiftly. “Taiyou-sama, you care about these women. You don’t see them as a means of debauchery like those disgusting lapdogs in the Bakufu, but as human beings who all deserve a right to live.” 

The faces of the girls you grew up with in Karasuno hovered in the back of your mind in the next moment, instilling you with a pang of sentiment so strong, you could hardly breathe. How...how could Alisa read you so well?

When you took too long to respond, she shifted from her seat, moving forward to place her hands on both of your shoulders. “What’s more is that you have the power to change the tides of the investigation,” Alisa laughed, rubbing your arms tenderly. “You have a good heart. I’m sure if anything shifty takes place, you’ll guide those men outside back into righteousness, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” you grumbled resentfully. “All I’ve done in the last few weeks was hole myself up in a place where I can’t even do anything to help. How do you expect someone like me to sway the warlords’ choices with the matter? Lord Kuroo wouldn’t even let me set foot out of the compound…”

Alisa sighed, pressing her lips into a thin smile as she stood up. “Well, Tora and I trust you enough to know when to take action, Taiyou-sama. But I’m afraid our conversation is going to have to be cut short.”

You were about to ask her what she meant by that, but before you could even open your mouth, the door to the room slid open—revealing the very men that Alisa had just spoken of not five minutes earlier. The sight of them together once more stoked your doubts even further. How were you supposed to influence these people in any way at all?!

“Lord Kita has made his decision,” Kuroo announced, ever the first to take charge. “You will be returning to Karasuno today. I’ll have some of my men collect your belongings from the compound so they could bring them back here, but there is a certain...condition to be satisfied.”

Despite the wealth of relief that settled in your chest, you grimaced. “What is it?”

Bokuto snickered behind Kuroo, like a child that couldn’t keep a secret. His owlish eyes glinted with amusement as he gave Ushijima’s shoulder a few casual pats—a gesture that the latter didn’t seem to appreciate.

“Wakatoshi here is going to be your personal guard, of course!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, my apologies since nothing remotely heart-fluttering occurred in this chapter! But _hey_ , Ushiwaka's going to be guarding you now huh ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖) 
> 
> This chapter was originally going to be about 6k-ish long, but I decided to make the tenth chap the monster chapter instead! Do expect more shameless smut, more Atsumu, and more convoluted relationship dynamics in the next update fufufu.
> 
> P.S. I beg you all to look at [this](https://s1.zerochan.net/Kita.Shinsuke.600.2446116.jpg) fanart of Kita by Garbage on Zerochan. I know it's a yakuza au piece but DAMN did that singlehandedly inspire me to write him into this chapter lmao.


	10. False Promises on a Silver Platter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sike. I know I said there'll be smut in this chapter, but I changed my mind. The pacing I'm going at right now seems steady enough, and I feel like adding too much events in a single chap would throw off the rhythm. 
> 
> I also wanted more leeway for the exposition of Taiyou-sama's slow but sure development as a character. Not to trash my own MC, but we all know how useless she's been for the last 10 chapters. As the story progresses, we're going to explore how she's going to overcome that :3c

Following the events that had transpired in Nekoma, life in Karasuno had more or less gone back to normal.

The endless chores were a well-received greeting upon your arrival. In your stay at the Shinsengumi compound, the lack of any housework only served to bore you out of your wits. You’d never thought airing out futons and washing your housemates’ clothes would grant you a sense of relief in the past. 

Evenings in Yoshiwara were business as usual, too. Regular patrons mingled with some new faces in the streets—intent on splurging their hard-earned wages for a night of sensual pleasures. Karasuno was all too willing to accommodate their desires, and nearly every woman Ukai had under his care had been booked for the night. To your surprise (and mild horror), Yachi had also been added to the regular roster during your absence. 

“Lord Ukai always makes sure to assign me to patrons that aren’t…um, harsh?” the poor girl informed you, face heated with embarrassment. “Y-You don’t have to worry about me, though, Taiyou-sama! I can do my job just fine.”

And just like that, you realized that there weren’t many drastic changes that took place. One of the few aberrations to the brothel’s routine was probably the fact that you wouldn’t be accepting any customers for a while. It was just until the investigation bears more results, but you received the news with a crippling sense of relief. After everything that happened as of late, you weren’t sure if you could make good on the money your regulars would pay. You didn’t really wish to run Ukai’s reputation in the muck simply because of possible underperformance.

Another one of these so-called aberrations, however, came in the hulking form of the warlord, Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

The commander’s presence was certainly as comical as it was terrifying. His temporary quarters were situated in the first floor of the building, and more often than not, patrons would run into him while he was on the way out to bathe. Ushijima usually didn’t interact with them outside of an acknowledging nod, but that alone was enough to drive lesser men out to the streets altogether. After some much-needed intervention from Ukai, the owner managed to salvage the brothel’s revenue by imploring Ushijima not to show himself to civilians, given that his presence here was also being kept secret from the public. 

However, even after a week into settling with your current reality, Kita’s orders honestly still didn’t make sense to you. Sure, these were difficult times but was it necessary to have a warlord stand guard in Karasuno as a representative of the Bakufu? They already visited Yoshiwara on the daily for the sake of putting together the mystery behind the murders. If you were in Ushijima’s shoes, you’d _definitely_ think this was too much. 

But, turns out, the man in question didn’t seem to mind.

“Lord Ushijima, I hope you aren’t bored of your stay,” Ukai remarked.

Ushijima, who’d always joined you and Ukai for breakfast (along with Saeko and Sawamura), set aside his bowl and chopsticks atop the short-legged table. “The lack of active responsibility _does_ provide ample time for meditation.” 

You frowned. How he could meditate amidst all the sounds of debauchery was beyond you, but you opted not to ask altogether. Instead, you humored his response with one of your own. 

“Yes, there isn’t much to do in a brothel, is there?” you chuckled.

Saeko snorted from your side, already taking a drag from her pipe. “There _is_ one thing.” Sawamura, ever the first to do damage control, nudged her with an elbow—a reprimanding look on his face that only went unnoticed. However, Ushijima spoke again before the captain could verbally call her out.

“My retainers _have_ brought up the aspect of lovemaking a few times,” the warlord acquiesced, curiosity making itself known on his face. “They even suggested that I partake in Yoshiwara’s services so that I may know what to do once an heir is required of me.”

The four of you stared at the commander unblinkingly, not quite believing what he just said. Okay, maybe finding out that the samurai before you—blessed with a body crafted by the gods themselves—was a virgin shouldn’t be too jarring a surprise. From the short time you’d known him, you figured that Ushijima was the type that would devote himself to his work before anything else. That brief conversation he had with Daishou was clue enough, already, but hearing him declare it out loud, himself? So much for being a man of pride.

“...to teach me.”

Oh. You spaced out.

“What was that?” you asked, pleading for the warlord to repeat what he’d said. 

Ushijima affixed you with a deep, olive-eyed gaze—one smoldering enough to make your stomach flutter. When he moved his lips once again, you made sure to commit his words to memory.

“I want you to teach me how to be a proper lover.”

And then came the silence. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d served important figures in the Bakufu—that was already a given, but the knowledge of having to serve _Ushijima_ made you want to jump out of your bones. For the first time in a long time, you worried about whether or not you’ll live up to his expectations. He seemed like someone who didn’t like cutting corners. Someone that wanted everything to be perfect, and if you were being honest you were far, _far_ from that despite others insisting otherwise. Before you could even get a chance to protest, though, Ukai had already broken your collective reverie. 

“That can be arranged. Karasuno is a brothel, after all,” the owner announced, placing his chopsticks on top of his bowl as well. “However, our services aren’t free. I know you’re already doing us plenty favors for guarding Taiyou-sama, but it wouldn’t do the business any good if word gets out that we exchange our services with...favors.” 

You stared at Ukai with an incredulous look. Did he…did he just talk Ushijima down?

Seeming that he’d made it his agenda to surprise you every two minutes, the commander nodded in agreement. “I will not place myself on a pedestal just because of the task handed to me. I’ll make sure to pay the appropriate fees.”

That…was something you didn’t expect—from a noble, no less. In contrast, it seemed to please Ukai by a long shot. As he got up from the table, Saeko and Sawamura followed suit—like they’d already orchestrated this interaction without your knowledge. 

“Tonight, then,” the owner declared. “We’ll prepare your quarters at dusk. Please spend the rest of the day as you see fit.”

And that sealed the deal. 

As you met Ushijima’s forest-green eyes once more, you had to gulp down the lump in your throat. In just a few hours, you were going to accommodate this man between your legs. He didn’t seem perplexed, though he also didn’t look too sure. You didn’t blame him.

You weren’t doing so great in sorting out your feelings, either.

* * *

As the day wore on, so did your peace of mind. 

The hours seemed to crunch by in irritatingly slow motion—granting you even _more_ unwanted time to mull over your upcoming tasks. However, like every time your head was plagued with thoughts you’d rather not acknowledge, you decided to busy yourself with the remaining chores left. Sweeping the foyer was the last on your agenda, and you were about to head to the entrance, broom in hand, until you spotted Kiyoko lingering by the platform. 

Curious, you approached your junior with caution—intent on sneaking a glance behind her shoulder. But before you could get any closer, one of the floorboards creaked under your weight, alerting her to your presence. 

“T-Taiyou-sama?” she stammered, hiding something behind her back. Your eyes were quick to recognize what it was, though: a sealed letter. 

“Good day, Kiyoko.” You smiled, striding past her without batting an eyelash. It was rare for oirans to receive letters, and from the way her face flushed with glee before your abrupt interruption, well… Let’s just say you had an idea or two regarding the sender’s identity.

You just hoped your junior wasn’t foolish enough to respond to it. 

Once you emerged outside, you were greeted by the sight of the samurai idling in the foyer—an angry-sounding Hoshi flapping to-and-from Nishinoya and Tanaka as they tossed a piece of bread between each other. Sugawara was chastising the two idiots to the best of his ability, but to no avail. To the side, Hinata and Kageyama seemed to be sparring with wooden swords, while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi acted as (unwilling) mediators. And just a few feet away from them—

Your heart practically leaped into your throat at the sight of Ushijima and Sawamura talking amongst themselves by the other end of the platform. The captain of Karasuno’s samurai seemed oblivious to your presence, but Ushijima was quick to flicker his eyes towards your unflattering form. You’d been scrubbing down the floors all afternoon. The haggard look was something you rather he _didn’t_ see on you, but it was a little too late for that now. 

_Just when I was trying to avoid him all day, too..._

Deciding to brush off the intensity of his gaze, you proceeded to do your task despite the countless distractions around you. Admittedly, it was a little lonely. Some of the girls were still dead asleep in their rooms, so it was just you and the too-lively samurai. 

Oh, and the Eagle Commander that just wouldn’t stop _staring_ at you. 

After fooling yourself into thinking that the floor was clean enough, you wiped a sheen of sweat off your brow. But you couldn’t even afford to pat yourself on the back because Ushijima was _still_ sneaking glances your way. How has Sawamura not noticed? Wasn’t that a bit disrespectful, too?

Before you could pray to the gods for the ground to swallow you whole, though, Ennoshita emerged from the building. 

“All of the samurai are to report to Ukai-san’s office right now!” he announced, but when he turned to the Eagle Commander, Ennoshita shifted his tone into a more respectful one. “Ah, he called for you as well, Lord Ushijima.” 

Just like that, their collective amusement dissipated into thin air—each samurai harboring a look that was one part serious and two parts confused. Nonetheless, they all filed back into the building at a hurried pace, save for Sugawara who directed himself to the back garden. Possibly to put Hoshi away. 

“Will you be alright?” Sawamura asked once he passed you, a worried look crinkling in his eyes. 

“I’ve been ‘alright’ for the past month,” you reassured, throwing in a convincing smile. “Go on. Don’t keep Lord Ukai waiting.”

To your utmost relief, Ushijima decided not to let his eyes drift to you once they all retreated inside. Were you just being a little paranoid because of your first appointment (in nearly a _month_ ) later tonight? That must be it. 

A low growl rumbled in your stomach once you were left to your lonesome. The hunger pang made you consider going outside to grab a quick snack, but your conscience immediately shot the idea down. Lots of people were going out of their way to keep you safe, and waltzing out like it’s no one’s business just rendered all their efforts useless.

...unless they never found out.

If you remembered correctly, those regular summons that Ukai handed out to the samurai often lasted an hour at least. That was more than enough time for you to go out and return without anyone noticing. After a quick scan of your surroundings, you noticed that Kiyoko had gone in the midst of the ruckus as well. It was just you, and the wide-open gates of Karasuno. 

_The onigiri Suga packed for me was so good, too_ , you thought dreamily as you shook your arm a little—catching the amulet that you still hid in your sleeves. 

There was something about this particular charm Oikawa had given that made you feel at ease. Nowadays, you never left anywhere without it. Was it the promise you both imbued for it to represent? You were never really one to bother with the specifics, but with each day that passed, you hoped his innocence would be proven as well.

Having made up your mind, you did a once-over towards your surroundings—relieved that there really _wasn’t_ anyone left—before promptly bolting outside. 

Just like a prisoner tasting freedom for the first time. 

* * *

“Two rice balls please.” 

You placed the exact payment on the wooden counter, patiently drumming your fingers across the surface as the shopkeep—Osamu, if you remembered correctly—emerged from the back. Exhilaration hummed in your veins at what you just did. So _that_ was what running away felt like. You briefly wondered how it would be if you were given the chance to run from _Yoshiwara_ , but your curiosity turned into dread—dropping like a stone into your belly when you were faced with a pair of golden eyes. 

“Oh? Aren’t you the pretty li’l thing from a week ago? Fancy seein’ ya ‘ere.” Atsumu greeted with a wry smile, folding his arms across his chest. However, as if sensing your fear, he let out a laugh that didn’t really put you at ease like he probably meant to. “Aw, ya look like a spooked mouse. Sorry for scarin’ ya back there. Don’t you have that huge fella with you right now?” 

He was probably talking about Ushijima. “No… I don't. I just—can you just give me my rice balls?” 

Atsumu’s intent gaze didn’t let up. “Now, don’t be like that. I get that you were expectin’ my brother, but ‘Samu ain’t here right now. _I’m_ the type ta humor customers with a bit of small talk, y’know?” The blond braced his hands on the counter, leaning forward. “Care ta entertain me for a while, Taiyou-sama?”

The way he spoke your title felt as if he was staining it with his voice alone. You hadn’t liked Atsumu the day you crossed paths in the Kabuki district, and your opinion on him didn’t seem like it would change any time soon. Your instincts screamed for you to just make a run for it, but it was pride that rooted your feet to the ground. It had taken a _lot_ of guts to bypass the security imposed on you for the past month, and you were _not_ going back empty-handed. 

So, with obvious hesitation, you relented.

“What is it you want to discuss?” 

It could have been a trick of the light, but you could have sworn Atsumu’s expression turned a little…dark back there. Nonetheless, the ominous look was gone when you blinked—that eternal smirk resting on his face instead. 

“Don’t ya think it’s strange that the Bakufu’s lap dogs are frequenting Yoshiwara?” he began, leaning against the wall. “Well, I can’t really talk since _I_ haven’t been ‘ere for long, either.”

Rather perplexed, you answered with, “Well, with all the murders going around, it’s normal for them to be on high alert.”

“But why do ya think it’s so important??” Atsumu bit back. “They could’a just let the Shinsengumi handle all this, but they’re _personally_ interfering…with little to no conclusive results, too.” 

You weren’t fond of Atsumu—this was glaringly obvious, but…he _did_ make a few points. Your mind flashed back to the time Oikawa told you about how the Bakufu had learned to hide things from the imperial family, and that only hastened your downward spiral to skepticism. In the midst of your introspection, Atsumu finally decided to prepare your two, leaf-wrapped onigiris. But of course, he wouldn’t hand them over so easily. 

“I wouldn’t trust ‘em too much if I were you,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Word has it that they’re using these incidents to cover-up the fact that they’re try’na shut down Yoshiwara. Ah, but don’t take my word for it, though. We could always just watch things unfold eventually.”

All of a sudden, your mind drifted to the things Alisa had told you nearly a week ago. The culprit was a _yokai_ , she said. As outlandish at it sounded, you weren't even certain what _was_ and _wasn't_ possible anymore. Atsumu's theories only served to throw a wrench in your growing pool of suspicions. Just _what_ was the truth?

Then again, idea of the red light district being busted down sent a chill across your spine. This wasn’t the most ideal environment, but shutting Yoshiwara down meant hundreds of women would lose their jobs—their _homes_. You knew how people outside thought of oirans and what they did. How making use of your body to earn your wages was frowned upon by those too morally upright to wonder what drove a woman to become a whore in the first place. You knew it won’t be easy for them to survive with that prejudice unfairly forced on their shoulders.

It didn’t help that the Bakufu seemed intent on making Oikawa shoulder the blame for everything, too—further tarnishing the integral image they held for the public to see. If what Atsumu was saying was true, then—

“Oi, foreigner. Quit planting weird ideas in her head.”

Startled out of your contemplation, you whirled around to face none other than Diashou Suguru. His brows were knitted with apprehension as he eyed Atsumu suspiciously. The latter didn’t seem pleased with having a third party intrude on the conversation, but you were all too relieved with his entrance

“I wasn’t talkin’ to _you_ ,” the shopkeep deadpanned with an eye roll before finally handing your purchase. “Anyways, let’s just continue this some other time, Taiyou-sama. I don’t like it when snakes stick around where they ain’t welcome.”

Daishou scoffed, fingers gripping the sword by his side. “Like you’re one to talk, _foreigner_. Everything went to shit in our town when both of you moved in. Tell me why I _shouldn’t_ suspect you for stirring things up.” 

“You don’t have _proof_.”

“Yeah? But I have good intuition.” The samurai glared at him, and you momentarily feared that he’d actually draw his sword. “And my little gut here is telling me that you’re bad news.”

“Daishou-san,” you pleaded drily, tugging on the sleeve of his haori. “We should go.”

For a moment, Daishou seemed to startle at your touch—but he visibly relaxed when his eyes landed on your face. Simpering, he turned on his heel, grabbing you by the shoulder as he promptly escorted you away. 

“What’re you even doing out here?” he asked. “I heard they weren't letting you take any patrons as of late just to ensure your safety, yet…”

Sighing, you handed him the other onigiri. “Can I bribe you to keep your silence _and_ walk me back to Karasuno?” Daishou stared at you for a couple of seconds, slanted eyes scrutinizing you intently before his face twisted with laughter. You squinted at him, wondering what was so funny. 

“You drive a hard bargain, but alright.” He plucked the rice ball from your grasp, peeling the wrappers immediately before taking a huge bite. The sight caught you off guard a little. You hadn’t seen him act this at ease since Mika died... 

“So, let me get this straight,” he started once you’d finished giving him a concise explanation of why you were out in the open. “You were hungry and just bolted out like that? Seriously?” 

“Just because my title suggests otherwise, doesn’t mean I’m put-together at all times,” you huffed, munching on your own onigiri with spite. This, however, only seemed to encourage Daishou even more.

“You’re really more outspoken than people think huh,” he chuckled almost fondly. “No wonder she looked up so much to you.”

As you savored in the tangy flavor of the rice ball, your strides slowed—prompting Daishou to glance back at you curiously.

“Did you mean Mika?” 

His eyes flashed, and you briefly wondered if bringing her up was a bad idea. But instead of lashing out like you’d anticipated him to, Daishou merely wolfed down the last of his onigiri—flicking some grains off his face with a sigh. 

“Yeah. She adored you to bits, Taiyou-sama. If you only knew.” His voice had a tone that harbored none of his prior playfulness. “But…there’s no use dwelling on that now, huh.”

“We’re going to find out who did it.” 

The samurai stared at you with bemused eyes. “What?” 

Clearing your throat, you met his barely-there gaze—fisted hands laying resolute on your sides. “We’re going to figure out who’s been trashing our town, and give justice not only to Mika’s death, but to the other victims as well.”

For a moment, Daishou merely stood there, unable to form a response. But when he finally got his bearings together, the samurai carded his hands through viridescent hair—chuckling airily. 

“Now, _that’s_ a tall assumption,” he commented. “You really shouldn’t give false promises on a silver platter. Not when you don’t have any plans on making good on them. It’s been a month already, and those idiots in the Bakufu still—”

“Daishou-san, do you trust me?” 

He blinked, bewildered at your words, still. “Yes, but it’s the lap dogs I have my doubts with. That weirdo running the onigiri shop just _reeks_ of trouble, but he’s right about them acting all shifty.” 

You bit your lip, shoving all your retrospection down for later. This wasn’t the time to be suspecting the people who were helping you right now. Sure, some of their actions were questionable, but you wouldn’t be able to figure _anything_ out without their aid. It was taking a while, but you knew how seriously they took the case. 

Kuroo, with his selfless initiative; Ushijima, a man duty-bound to see this to the end; Bokuto, an endless spring of positivity; Oikawa, who acted the moment he noticed something amiss; and all those that resided here in Yoshiwara, who did everything in their power to preserve the peace. The effort that these people alone gave you hope that the deaths of your fellow courtesans would eventually be solved. 

You _hated_ how you couldn't contribute as much as the people around you. The fact that they had to protect you only hindered their progress, as well. But even if you weren't as helpful with the things that actually mattered, the least you could do is to bolster their faith in one another. However trivial the means may seem. 

“It might not mean a lot right now but,” you paused, making sure he was still looking at you, “you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss their hard work, Daishou-san. We _will_ figure this out.”

But it’s as if that was the end of the line for his patience. Daishou heaved a forlorn sigh as he yanked you by the wrist once again—dragging you back to Karasuno as promised. You worried that you hadn’t gotten through to him at all, but noticed that his face no longer harbored the sorrow he’d shown you.

“Taiyou-sama, I’m not a very understanding man,” he said. “I don’t just go along trusting people who make promises that bear no results. But if the person that Mika admired so much told me to trust her, then I guess I have no choice.”

Daishou only let go of your wrist once you were back in front of the gates. Thankfully, the foyer was still devoid of anyone that was possibly on the look-out. You faced the green-haired samurai once more, offering him a gentle smile.

“Thank you.” 

He simpered once more, throwing one arm up in farewell. “You better make good on that promise. The only thing I hate more than suspicious foreigners is a person who doesn’t keep their word.”

“I know.” A laugh stole from your lips as you returned the gesture, watching as Daishou slowly faded into a speck in the distance. 

Shoulders relaxing, you craned your head to gaze at the building that was Karasuno. It’s been a while since you last had the chance to stare up at it like this. You’d been born and raised here for more than twenty years. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had.

At this point, you could safely say the things you’d told Daishou were not at all found on empty promises. With all the people who now relied on you as well, you’d make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for reading! We're at the 10/20 mark but knowing me, I might make adjustments to the chapters when it all comes down to it. But while everything is still relatively mellow, you guys can always talk about this fic with me by sending an ask on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com/ask). 
> 
> Ah, also—I take commissions (and donations!) on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai)! Make sure to shoot me a message first so we can discuss <3


	11. Lapse in Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates that don't have one month intervals? An abrupt rating change? You read right! 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter contains NSFW content, and you could skip to the first break if you don't want to read it (but let's be honest, who _doesn't_?)

“Here.”

You glanced up at the most beautiful woman in Yoshiwara before cutting to the object she tossed on the floor. It was an eggplant of considerable size—almost looking fresh from a harvest. The stem was a healthy shade of green and its skin beheld a sleek violet finish. Was she asking you to cook it? Though, with that in mind, your curiosity slowly morphed into confusion. Your mother _hated_ eggplants. 

Nonetheless, you asked, “Taiyou-sama, is this what you want for lunch?” 

Saeko, who had been sitting by the foyer with you, snickered into her palm, as if harboring some knowledge that you didn’t. The frown on your face only deepened. What was so funny?

“You’re nearly of age,” the Sun sighed, wisps of smoke curling from her lips as she took a drag from her pipe. “It’s only a matter of time before the owner lets you please his clients. If your first patron thinks you’re no good, then what would that say about me?”

Though she’d made a good point, what did _that_ have to do with an eggplant? Your face twisted further, not really understanding what she was trying to say until your eyes drifted to the chunk of produce before you. It was only a matter of time before you could please customers, she said… 

_Oh._

The Sun simpered at the way your cheeks heated up, taking another whiff before saying, “Good to know you’re not as slow to pick things up today.” She turned around, the golden pins in her hair jiggling with the movement. You thought that marked the end of the conversation, until your mother threw an unreadable look over her shoulder.

“The only one who knows your body best is _you_ ,” she said, with much more sincerity than what you were used to. “You can’t dream of pleasing another if you don’t even know how to please yourself. Keep that in mind and maybe you’ll stand a chance at succeeding me.”

With that, she made her exit. 

Head craned over your shoulder, Saeko scooted closer to inspect the eggplant you were scrutinizing warily. “Someone’s in a good mood,” she remarked, and you couldn’t agree more. Your eyes were trained on the door your mother had slid behind her, as if you could see through the shoji. Words of encouragement from the Sun were rare, and being on the receiving end had always...spooked you. 

When you glanced back at Saeko, though, a taunting smile still rested atop her lips. You _knew_ she wouldn’t let you live this down. 

“I saw some of the older sisters practicing on that, too,” she spoke as casually as if she’d been speaking of the weather, pointing at the object in your grasp. “They say it helps you to get used to forceful patrons, given the right pace. But it’s for that reason everybody dislikes eating them.” 

Your stomach churned, and you could almost see yourself turning pale at the notion she’d planted in your head. Of course, you’d heard of the… _alternatives_ that other ladies in the house resorted to, but to learn that it was a _vegetable_ of all things—

“This one has a ridiculous girth to it though,” Saeko whistled, snatching up the eggplant as she examined it with wonder. “No man in Edo has a cock _this_ big.” 

“S-Saeko,” you stammered, fingers catching the air as your companion evaded your attempts to retrieve the offending object. “You shouldn’t fool around.” 

She merely brushed aside, making obscene gestures with the vegetable by pumping her fingers across its length—holding it in front of your face to fluster you even further. “Take this as your first lesson! See, when you grip a man’s shaft, you shouldn’t be too forceful or else it’ll hurt—”

Taking Saeko by surprise, you snatched the eggplant back in spite of yourself. Your face was definitely redder than a tomato by now, but you refused to let yourself think of unsuspecting produce any longer. Who knew how creative your sisters were with the things one would usually find in the market?

“Fine, fine,” she relented, raising her palms up in defeat. But despite that, she was far from done with the endless teasing. “You’ll tell me when you manage to land a man that thick, won’t you?” 

You shot back up to your feet. “I most certainly will _not_!” 

The sound of her animated laughter buzzed in your ears even as you forcefully slid the front door behind you. Some of the sisters lingering by the entrance cast you concerned stares, but you dismissed them with a smile. When they spotted the object cradled in your arms, however, their reactions weren’t all too different from Saeko’s—further painting your cheeks scarlet. 

_God forbid the day I meet a man with a cock just like this_ , you thought disdainfully...

...only to meet that exact person a few years later.

In present day Yoshiwara, two amorous lovers sat cloaked in the shadows with nothing but the lanterns illuminating their private enclosure. That hardly mattered. The years you’d spent working here had sharpened your vision enough that you could parse through darkness with little difficulty. There in the low light, you drank up the sight of him—green eyes blown wide, chest heaving with stilted breaths, and an impressive cock straining firmly against a sculpted abdomen. 

“Do you wish to go on?” you murmured, framing the words against his ear as you trailed your fingers across the curve of his jaw. 

You didn't miss the way Ushijima took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t like you’d anticipated any verbal response. So far, the commander had been reserved with his words—completely trusting you to guide him to the next step. That consideration would have flattered you, but you’d never been tasked to lead the way before. After all, men clamored to the gates of the red light district not to learn the delicate art of lovemaking, but merely because they wished for a swift release. Some of them didn’t even bother looking at the whores they were to use. But Ushijima was a man that harbored devotion towards everything he did, and that included his resolve to ravage you tonight.

He nodded once, placing his large hands on your waist to stake his claim just like you’d instructed. There was a gentleness weighted beneath his strength—one that was foreign, but not unwelcome—and that gave you the inkling that he might be a tender lover. Even if his disposition suggested otherwise.

Ushijima held you above his length that dripped with pearlescent arousal, patiently waiting for you to initiate. You, however, took the time to admire what he’d carried between his legs. A distant memory, now dulled into a barely familiar buzz tickled the back of your mind. You remembered fearing the day you’d meet someone you might not be able to handle, but if it was him, you supposed you could stand to be a little bolder. 

The slick between your own legs made his passage swift, but not exactly comfortable. He boasted a girth you hadn’t seen in all your patrons thus far—invading your drenched walls with a stretch too delicious to call painful. A sigh caught between your throat, hands grasping his broad shoulders to anchor yourself somehow. Ushijima grunted once, and you were unable to overlook the way he watched his length disappear into you.

“When your body is in union with a lover’s,” you started shakily, “she might find your...size quite overwhelming. The best you can do to minimize the pain is to— _o-oh_ , take advantage of her other senses.”

“How can I do that?”

As you met Ushijima’s gaze, he looked as if he heard you and didn’t at the same time—eyes focused, yet simultaneously distracted. Though, he made no qualms when you twined one of your hands through his olive tufts, bringing his face to rest in the crook of your neck. 

“The skin just below a woman’s jaw is highly sensitive.” You were surprised with how even your voice began to sound, especially now that he’d bottomed out inside of you. For a moment, you forgot what you were trying to tell him, but Ushijima seemed to understand all the same. 

A soft whimper escaped you once the warlord latched his mouth over the thrum of your pulse, sucking on your skin as his hands travelled lower to your hips. It took every ounce of self-control you had left to keep you from losing yourself to the stretch of his cock. But if he was patient enough to resist all the sensations compelling him to lose control, you were more than capable of exercising the same restraint. 

“Just like that,” you encouraged and decided to reward him by lifting yourself up, only to sink down onto his shaft once again. A groan rumbled low in his chest—the sound searing straight to your core. “Fondling her breasts would be a good distraction as well.”

The warlord hastily moved to massage your chest with one hand, coiling his arm around your waist with another. When he detached his mouth from your neck, you held his viridian gaze for only a moment before his eyes flickered towards your chest. The rough calluses of his fingers made your nipples peak with anticipation—adoring the way he pinched and groped at your breasts with fervor. You threw your head back as you let yourself indulge in his ministrations, but when the hand on your waist had begun to inch higher up your back, you startled when Ushijima grazed a patch of marred skin.

That seemed to rouse him out of his haze of desire, as well. He stared at you unblinkingly with his fingers frozen in place. You’d been so caught up in your own vehemence that you’d overlooked the one rule you’d established for your clients: they were forbidden to hold your back—much more _touch_ it—for reasons you never bothered disclosing. Though most of your scars had healed over time, the worst of them remained in ugly red welts embossed on your back. 

But it seemed too late to reprimand Ushijima for it. His warm hand caressed the blemishes with a tenderness that felt intrusive, effectively killing the headiness that clouded your mind only a few moments prior. You inwardly cursed yourself. Had your month-long break from the job dulled your wits?

You remained quiet for a while, willing yourself not to wince every time he made contact. The exchange suddenly felt more intimate than it should be—more so now that Ushijima wasn’t making any daft comments about your affliction. His cock still pulsed within your wet channel, but he made no move to continue nor did he ask what to do next.

He simply bathed in the silence, giving you ample time to regain your composure. 

...But the knowledge that he wasn’t your real lover, that this was merely a _lesson_ , reeled you back. You were supposed to teach him how to love a woman like he meant it, not let him watch you struggle to keep yourself in one piece.

Deciding that he’d learn better if he took the reins, you lifted yourself off the warlord’s lap—feeling his cock slip out with a lewd squelch. You laid yourself down on the futon and Ushijima’s eyes raked through each subtle motion you made—the way you bared your neck, the seductive half-droop of your eyes, and the moment you pried your knees far apart. His face remained devoid of any overflowing emotion, and you never knew lying with a man of a few words could work in your favor until now. 

You tugged on one of his strong arms, beckoning Ushijima to slot himself between your thighs. Reluctance laid heavy in his movements, but he followed your lead wordlessly before bracing his palms on either side of your head. He was so close, his breath nearly tickled your face. 

“Hold up my thighs when you enter me again,” you continued, mesmerized with the way his hair fell across the forest in his eyes. “Some women like it when their lover is gentle, but there are also others who would rather be dominated.”

He considered your words before dipping lower so that his lips were close to your ear. 

“What would _you_ prefer?”

The low timbre of his voice incited yet another shock that raced across your spine. His body reached a fever pitch that threatened to scorch you alive, and you could only lie helpless as the flames crept higher and higher. 

Sighing, you hooked an arm around his neck, bringing him down to press your lips together. He froze at the abruptness of the gesture, but moved his mouth against yours whilst mimicking your movements. It was a sloppy kiss—his inexperience shining further with the way he fumbled, but you didn’t mind. 

It was your job to teach him until he chose the mother of his brood.

Ushijima scooped your thighs from behind you, wrapping your legs around his waist. When you pulled away, he rested his forehead on top of yours. Suddenly, hesitation had no place in the room when you whispered:

“I want what _you_ want, my lord.”

Something sparked within those emerald irises, like the first flame igniting a candle’s wick. He pushed inside you in one, languid thrust—filling you so much, so quickly, tears began to pool in your eyes. Your jaw dropped with a gasp, but Ushijima quickly silenced it with his own lips before matching his movements with the cadence of his thrusts. He didn’t make a noise apart from the occasional grunt that would tumble from his mouth. And judging from his character, the warlord didn’t seem like he had any plans to break the silence.

“You must hold your lover close when you make love,” you rasped as you pulled away, fingers scratching at his muscled back hard enough to leave crescent moon marks. “Hold her close. Make the distance non-existent. This is a time where the two of you become one with absolutely _nothing_ in-between.”

Ushijima burrowed his face into your neck, arms coiling around your waist before pulling you flush against him. You moaned as he continued to pound his cock in and out of your sopping heat. Whatever reluctance he’d harbored was slowly peeled away—revealing the beast that lingered underneath. He seemed content with the pace he’d set, rough and punishing. If only he hadn’t robbed you of coherence, you would have praised him for it. 

One of your hands threaded through his hair, and you were pleased to feel his soft tufts against your fingertips. He then dipped down to claim your lips in another kiss that was all teeth and tongue, biting and licking whatever you could find. You felt him murmur something against your mouth, but the words were lost to the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin. 

“If you wish your seed to bear fruit, you need to go as deep as you can,” you instructed with another gasp when his teeth found your throat—biting down with the intent to mark you. When you met his eyes again, his gaze was _feral_. 

“Like this?”

Catching you completely off guard, Ushijima hoisted your hips even higher as he lifted your lower body off the futon. You could only watch as he pressed your legs against your chest, introducing you to an angle that made your eyes widen with surprise. The head of his cock brushed spots inside that you hadn’t known existed, and he effortlessly made you whimper beneath his gargantuan form. 

Gods forgive him. You hadn’t lied with a man quite like this before—an animal cloaked with human skin. The sheer size of his cock should have overwhelmed you, should have _hurt_ , but it seemed like your body wanted him enough to let him have his way with you. Ushijima hissed a sound caught between a growl and a moan, one large hand moving to grope your breasts once again. You were damned. You hadn’t even taught him about the bundle of nerves tucked between a woman’s folds, yet he could _still_ drive you so easily to the cusp like this? 

“I—” He faltered, as if choking on his own words, but you recognized the way his thrusts began to lose their rhythm. Then came the way his shaft convulsed inside of you—a telltale sign of what’s to come. 

As you lost yourself to the scent of sweat-stricken musk that glistened across his skin, you whispered praises to spur him on—detailing how he’d be a wonderful lover, how he could get his significant one addicted to the feel of his cock alone. And when Ushijima finally unravelled the tightening coil in his gut, you laid perfectly still as he filled you with his seed. A man of his stature would naturally release in copious amounts, and your assumptions became reality when you felt him ease his cock outside of your ruined cunt. His emission leaked from your hole, dripping onto the futon when you could only take so much of him. 

Unlike your patrons who’d tire after the first time, however, Ushijima still loomed over your battered form—caging you between his arms with a rock hard cock standing proud down south. You bit your lip, not expecting this vigor from someone so reserved, but the revelation was all kinds of fitting. He pinned you in place not just with his body, but also with those olive eyes that seemed to glow even in the shadows.

“You best not assume that I am done with you.”

* * *

You emerged from the baths with a weary sigh, knuckling your eyes as drowsiness began to envelop you in its embrace. It was deep into the night already—only a few hours more until the sun rises. Some of the girls had just finished up with their own jobs for the day, filling the common area with hushed whispers. Those who you’d passed would acknowledge your presence with tired smiles which you reciprocated with your own. You never thought you’d admit it, but you kind of missed the early hours of down time. 

“Are you off to bed, Taiyou-sama?” 

Surprised, you turned around to come face-to-face with Sawamura. Right. He’d been waiting for you to finish your bath. 

“I was thinking of spending a few minutes by the balcony first,” you informed as you mussed your damp hair. “Care to keep me company?”

The samurai chuckled, already leading the way. “I’m obligated to, but I would like that, yes.”

Once the both of you were free from the dying buzz of Karasuno’s nightlife, you breathed in the fresh, evening breeze. Yoshiwara was a sea of red lanterns wherever you looked—for they were the only lights that glimmered in the darkness, apart from the splendor of the moon. The view was as breathtaking as you remembered. You’d always spared a few minutes after sessions to admire the sight before retiring to your own quarters, but your companion didn’t seem to harbor the same sentiments.

“I’ve been here for years, but I’m still bothered by the fact that Yoshiwara looks so different from home,” he imparted, bracing his arms across the balcony as he leaned forward. 

You appraised his words with a hum. “You and Lord Ukai come from the same region as Lord Ushijima, right?” 

“Yes. It’s been so long since we left that I hardly recall any memory of it,” Sawamura admitted. “I just remember there being rice paddies that seemed to stretch into the horizon. We never had any problems with growing our own food.”

The image that hovered in your head was a lovely one—possibly more divine than the sight of whores and drunkards swimming in an ocean of scarlet light. You never really pondered about living anywhere else but whenever the topic was spoken in conversation, you couldn’t help but wonder. How would your life be if you’d grown in a place with endless fields of rice? What would you be doing if you _hadn’t_ been born in Yoshiwara? But thoughts like that usually delved into dangerous waters—those of which you weren’t willing to drown in just yet. 

Instead of dwelling on it, you decided to talk about something else. “That reminds me, why were you stationed right outside Lord Ushijima’s room again? I bet it did you no favors seeing me in such a dishevelled state after we just finished.”

Sawamura’s face bloomed with heat, but was quick to mask his discomposure. “Ukai-san instructed me to stand by in case you were attacked. Lord Ushijima is one of the most talented swordsmen I’ve seen, but a man can only do so much in the throes of passion.”

“Well,” you started, stifling a few laughs, “you certainly pose a good point.” 

You let a comfortable silence settle between the two of you, ignoring the way your thighs began to ache along with the motley of bruises Ushijima had carved into your skin. You still shuddered at your memories from the last hour. This was the kind of fatigue that wouldn’t fade for days. He might not be aware of it, but the commander had _definitely_ ruined you—enough to keep you from entertaining another man for at least a few weeks.

“Do you remember all the times I was punished for being so out of line with security?” Sawamura’s question snapped you out of your contemplation, urging you to glance at him curiously. “So much that I was nearly banished from Karasuno altogether?”

“Of course,” you snorted, resting your elbow on the wooden rail to prop your chin on your palm. “You mostly got in trouble because I didn’t know how to say _no_ to audacious patrons.” 

The captain sighed, and you watched the way the lanterns reflected in his brown irises with fascination—painting his face with a warm orange glow. “It’s my job to keep the women of the house safe. Your status as oirans is already risky as it is, so I never minded a little beating from the previous owner if that meant I fulfilled my duty.”

You shook your head, painfully used to Sawamura’s penchant for shouldering accountability. But then again, it was _that_ trait of his that made Ukai decide he was fit to lead the samurai once the owner relinquished his captaincy. And from what you could see now, Sawamura proved everyday that Ukai made the right choice. 

“Remember the time you dealt with the lunatic that snuck a knife past the gates?” you reminisced, a fond smile grazing your face. “I thought you were going to get killed that night.”

“All I got was a scar and the lesson to always pat down patrons before entering, though,” he said as he rolled his shoulders, tapping his lip as if to make a point.

Rolling your eyes, you added, “ _And_ a month’s worth of probation since you stabbed that patron’s foot.” 

Sawamura laughed, turning his head to face you. “That seemed like ages ago. To think that we’ll have a murder spree to worry about a few years after that…” 

Despite the abrupt turn of his words, the relaxed atmosphere didn’t disperse. You shifted to drum your fingers on the banister, gazing at all the people milling down below. It’s been a while since you last talked with Sawamura like this. Then again, there were a lot of things you only began to realize you’d longed for after everything that transpired in the past month. The killings that have happened would strike fear into any oiran, much more if you possessed a title that was as good as a bullseye painted over your forehead. But even if you should be scared—even if you should be wary, right now, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fret.

“All my life, someone has always protected me,” you commented, feeling the wood graze your fingertips. “Even now, I have people going the extra mile just to ensure my safety. Not only do I have you, Saeko, and the rest of Karasuno’s samurai, but there’s also those folk from the Bakufu now, too… I’m starting to think you’re all risking your lives for nothing.”

“Don’t say that.”

You whipped your head, startled by his sudden retort. Sawamura’s brows were knit with a chastising look—one akin to the face Ukai would make when the samurai fooled around on-duty. The captain took your hand in his, stroking it gently as if he was trying to convey his feelings through his touch. 

“We’re protecting you because your life is just as important as anyone else’s,” he told you, a stern frown stretching his lips. “I hate the fact that we can’t do the same with the others that already passed, but all we can do now is prevent anything like that from happening again. That’s why we’re guarding not just you, but every courtesan residing in Yoshiwara.”

Your heart fluttered with his words, unknowingly encouraging you to squeeze his hand in a silent thanks.

Sawamura had always been a man of pure intentions—that showed in the way he led the samurai to a path of righteousness despite the location in which they operated. You knew he meant the words from the bottom of his heart, but the fact that there were too many uncertainties revolving the case reminded you not to think of this too lightly. The darkness was closing in on all of you from every direction, and with each thing you learn everyday, you began to have your doubts. The men you worked with seemed determined enough to solve the mystery, but what of those who worked in the shadows? Their superiors? Their lords? You couldn’t say the same thing for them, and the fact that any samurai put their loyalty above all else only served to trouble you. 

_No_. You were overthinking this again. How dare you doubt their purpose when Ushijima quite literally laid himself bare for you not two hours prior? Trusting another person with one’s body took a lot of willpower, so the least you could do is to put your faith in him in return. 

Intent on fully taking your mind off it, you took a step forward—taking your hand out of Sawamura’s grasp to swipe your thumb across his bottom lip. A whitened slit that had healed over time was ridged underneath your finger, and the captain was stunned into silence at your boldness. 

“Does it still hurt, Dai-chan?” you murmured, lashes fluttering as you stared into his eyes. 

Sawamura stiffened at the old nickname, gulping uneasily as he curled his fingers around your wrist. “No, it doesn’t.”

Neither of you move apart. Neither of you address the fact that you were toeing boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. Everyone knew that a guardian samurai touching an oiran suggestively was prohibited, but when you thought about Daishou and Mika’s romance kept under wraps, you began to consider the possibilities.

You shouldn’t do this—that was a given. For gods’ sake, you just had a _warlord_ between your legs tonight. But neither you nor Sawamura had ever bothered with keeping up appearances anyway. All that mattered was the tension that suddenly charged the atmosphere, egging the two of you to draw your faces closer, closer… 

The balcony in Karasuno was high enough that no one on the ground could recognize the two lovers with lips meshed under the moonlight. Such affection put on display was a normal occurrence in Yoshiwara. But in the midst of the crowd that bustled even in the dead of night, their identities wouldn’t escape a certain man’s scrutiny. 

A sinister smirk curled on his lips—the same way his clawed fingers gripped the amulet in his hand. Earlier today, a woman he’d served in his shop had left the charm behind in her haste. He'd daresay it was a poor lapse in judgement on her part; among other things.

As a pair of haunting gold eyes watched the couple pull apart—faces redder than the lanterns all around—he breathed out a mirthless laugh.

“What a shame it would be if the Sun stopped shining.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Don't look at me. This plot sprang from my mind with the intent on giving my MC a free #whore pass. Fool around with anyone and everyone and not a single soul will condemn her for it <3 
> 
> There isn't much to note about for this chapter. Probably just my difficulty with writing the narrative. And the fact that my outline for chapter 10 included the events from the last update _and_ this one. This story takes place in a time where technology is yet to be invented so using expressions with the word "electric" in it or using the phrase "train of thought" can't really be applied. Which sucks big time because those are probably my top 2 things to type into a fic lmao. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! As usual, you can hit me up on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com)!


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